After Troy
by cerasi1
Summary: Just as they lay his body to burn, Achilles was taken by the gods and gifted with the immortality he always desired. The tale of the immortal Achilles, and his escapades with the Trojan survivors. Slash Alert! AchillesParis and Patroclus, and Hades...
1. Achilles' Gift

After Troy Chapter 1 – Achilles' Gift  
  
Disclaimer: Ahhh, the usual. The characters are not mine, the plot is not mine, none of this should be taken as material from the actual film Troy because it's not, and if this world gets anymore trademarks and copyrights then we will cease to have any creative allowance left! Enjoy!  
  
Paris watched Achilles drop to the ground, three arrows in his chest, bleeding from the heel. But even as the famous warrior took his last breaths, Paris felt it wasn't the end for the beauty he had slain.  
  
Achilles look up in his last moment and reached a hand out. But the hand was not for Briseis, who Paris was having such difficulty containing. No, the hand was reached to Achilles' saviour, the man who had rescued him from this mundane life of siege upon siege, delivering him at last to immortality. Achilles would be remembered now, thanks to this young archer. And with that he fell to the ground, feeling peace at last.  
  
"This was not supposed to happen." Hephaestus said, observing the goings on from the heavens. His armour had failed.  
  
"We can no longer control the will of every being. He willed this stronger than we realized, and now he has won." Zeus responded, addressing all present.  
  
"There is still one thing we could do." Aphrodite spoke up from behind her father.  
  
Mutterings arose amongst those gathered. 'Surely she could not mean...' said some, 'It hasn't been done out of time before,' said others, 'Is he ready?' questioned those who considered it feasible.  
  
"You're not referring to..." Hephaestus trailed off, considering the implications of Aphrodite's suggestion.  
  
"I can't believe you'd even suggest such a thing, after all my effort with those arrows, you're going to go and bring him back." It was the sun god, Apollo who spoke forth. He had no desire to gift this man, Achilles had no respect for authority or leaders, a value which Apollo considered highly important.  
  
"We all know he deserves it. This must be done within the next 24 hours or we lose our chance." Again mutterings arose as a result of Aphrodite's statements. "It is his time, whether we decided it, or no. Now or never, what is the council's decision?"  
  
"What must be done, must." Zeus spoke first. "I say we take action now."  
  
"I second that." Athena said, not one to cause great dispute.  
  
"It happens now."  
  
"He deserves our respect. And I could do with the challenge." Ares agreed.  
  
Only one voice continued to oppose the concept. "I still maintain he doesn't deserve it." Apollo shook his head. "He holds no respect for any of our kind, yet you presume to give him this gift? He will honour us no more than he honoured me when he beheaded my statue!"  
  
"You must not let your personal anger cloud your judgment, Apollo. The man has earned this, we all know this, you must see it." Hephaestus advised.  
  
"He will not follow your path, nor accept us as his leaders." Apollo spoke in anger.  
  
"You can gift him with this, but I will have no part of it. You do this without me, and when the time comes you will remember what I have said." He left abruptly.  
  
"So be it. It must be done, with or without him." Zeus said. All agreed and through the joint force of their will's the mightiest gift to man was bestowed upon the warrior, Achilles.  
  
As the flames of his crematory tower surrounded his body, Achilles was transported, unharmed to a place he would be safe until he awoke from his rebirth. Achilles had become immortal. 


	2. The Escape

After Troy Chapter 2 – The Escape  
  
"Paris, when does this tunnel end? I cannot go on." Briseis pleaded as they ran. She didn't hear what Paris heard; constant and heavy footfall and occasional whispers of the vengeful Myrmidons. Apparently some of them had seen their captain fall, and followed Paris eager for his blood.  
  
Paris knew it was gambling all their lives coming down the secret path with the Myrmidons so close, but he could think of no alternative. They would have been killed in the city, and to stop now and fight them could well be suicide. He had no idea how many followed, but he was sure they would not stop until their captain had been avenged.  
  
Paris pleaded for the gods to show mercy. Someone must have been listening because the footfall stopped and he heard the voices no more.  
  
"Paris, please, how much farther?" Briseis asked again.  
  
"It can't be far." Paris replied. "We have surely cleared the walls by now." He spotted one of the many crates along the tunnel lying open. With no one now in pursuit he paused briefly to rifle through it. He pulled out a few cloaks and found a dull dagger at the bottom.  
  
"Listen, my dear cousin." He addressed Briseis as they resumed their path. "Once we're out of the city no one must know who we are, do you understand?" He threw a cloak over himself and one over Briseis, and hid the dagger in his belt.  
  
"Yes," she replied amid tears of distress that continued to flow after the death of her love.  
  
"We'll travel as peasants with the others who escaped via this route. Travel as refugees, disguise ourselves, and use what we carry with us to feed and shelter us." The plan formulated as he ran. It would not be the first time he had lived as a commoner.  
  
When he was born, his mother had a dream that told of Paris' future destruction of Troy. His parents left him outside to die by the elements, but he had been adopted by a passing farmer, and lived as a shepherd for years after. Eventually he had been returned to his birth right and now the dream's prophecy had been fulfilled.  
  
At last a light could be seen. A torch had been lit and stairs led abruptly up and out of the passage. Paris and Briseis fled up the stairs and just as they emerged both necks were met with blades.  
  
"What is your name and who do you fight for?" Asked a woman's voice, strikingly familiar to Paris' ears.  
  
"I fight for Troy, my name I will give upon receiving yours." He replied, careful not to give his identity. A hooded figure stepped out from behind him.  
  
"Lower your blades." The woman commanded those behind Paris. At last she lowered her hood to reveal Andromache, Hector's widow. A grim look was upon her face.  
  
"Paris, my dear brother." She said, embracing him and then turning to his cousin. "Briseis, my dear, I never thought I'd see you again." She said, a smile briefly gracing her face.  
  
"Andromache" Paris spoke finally. "Where is my love? Where is Helen?" He looked around eagerly as he asked, not finding the extraordinary beauty among those gathered. Returning his gaze to Andromache he realised what a fool he looked, he knew now why she was aggrieved.  
  
"She thought she could end it." Andromache said, her voice broken. The baby in her arms began to cry. "She didn't think you'd return, so she went to see what she could do." She stopped, tears breaking her speech at last.  
  
"No," Paris laughed, still not willing to admit. "She wouldn't do that, she had faith in me where no other did." A dull pain was rising in his stomach. He turned to disappear down the tunnel again. Andromache handed the crying baby to Briseis and grabbed her brother-in-law's arm. He turned to face her, ready to argue.  
  
"Paris, please. She turned back shortly after you left us. She has been in the city for some time now. You cannot do anything more."  
  
Paris stopped struggling now. The truth hit him like a brick at last. The pain in his gut now rose to his throat and tears began to tingle behind his eyes. Andromache embraced him and felt him tremble in her arms. 'Hector had been right,' she thought, 'this boy is not ready to face the world alone.'  
  
"Come," she spoke up, "there are no more in the city who know of this path. My husband discovered it from Priam and they told none bar Paris and myself. Let's seal it and get going. We have a long way to go and we cannot risk being caught." She pulled Paris' sobbing form away from the trap-door and had those present seal it and cover it with sand.  
  
"Come Paris." She spoke softly to him. "We all here know your grievance. Each of us has suffered great loss in these last few days. We must keep going. Hector would not have you die here tonight, and wherever Helen is, she would have you live too. Let's go." Andromache was born to be a leader, and now she would take control of this little party.  
  
Paris allowed himself to be dragged away and only once did he glance back at the trapdoor. Never again would he see his love. The face that launched a thousand ships was, according to legend, recaptured that night and returned to Greece within the year. There she would apparently live happily ever after, never forgetting her one true love, Paris, for whom she was willing to die that night. 


	3. A New Life

After Troy Chapter 3 – A new life  
  
Wind toyed with the blond hair of the muscular man lying on the ground. No scratch or scar could be found on his body where, previously, they existed. The warrior, as he had been known before, bore no battle wounds, and existed as the perfect image of health.  
  
A straying sheep bleated as it viewed the strange lump on the ground. The creature was wary as it approached, and when the lump moved, the sheep let out an almighty bleat and took off back towards the herd, hoping to find the shepherd waiting.  
  
The second bleat struck Achilles' ear like a gong, and he shook, suddenly awake. Sitting up he felt the sand upon his face and moved to rub it off. He spat out some grains and looked about him. Where was he? Was this a dream? He felt his arm, his leg, his face. He was here and in tact. But how? And, physically speaking, where?  
  
Suddenly a memory came rushing back to him;  
  
"Paris, no!" Briseis screamed beside him. An arrow left Paris' bow and struck him clean in the heel. Now he felt the mortality his mother had always told him about. Another arrow struck, this time in the chest. A third, a fourth. Falling to his knees he whispered parting words to Briseis. She left his side and Achilles finally felt his freedom. He reached out a hand to his saviour. Now he was immortal, the world of the living would remember him always. He fell at last to the ground. Free.  
  
"I should be dead." Achilles realised with a shock. "I did die!" He stood up and as he felt the wind in places it normally didn't penetrate he realised, with some modesty and embarrassment that he was also unclothed.  
  
"Take these, my child." Said a long-lost voice from behind him.  
  
"Mother." Achilles turned to find his mother, Thetis, and his heart leapt to his throat with a rush of emotion. Finally he took the clothes, "Thank you."  
  
"I'm not here for long. Just enough time to deliver a message." She told her beloved son, focusing on his eyes, careful not to embarrass him.  
  
Achilles nodded, disappointed but content to hear the message. "A message," he paused, "from whom?"  
  
"From the gods, my dear son." She spoke as though it was commonplace to be receiving a message from the mighty beings.  
  
"I see." His mother had told him as a child that she was a goddess, but had sworn him to secrecy. As he grew older he had begun to suspect it was just children's myths, invented to amuse him and keep him in line. Now, however, he was inclined to listen.  
  
"The message is this; You have become immortal earlier than was intended, and thus must exist on the earthly plain until your worth has been demonstrated..."  
  
"Demonstrated, to whom?" Achilles interrupted.  
  
Thetis continued unfazed, "to the gods at which point you will ascend to their level. You will become a god of love and war, worshipped by man and respected by the gods themselves." She finished and smiled. Her son had only managed to clothe half of himself before the impact of the message had hit him.  
  
"Come my son. You must dress yourself and get ready to prove the remainder of your godly worth."  
  
"Immortal." Achilles said, having heard little else. Another sheep bleated in the back ground, the wind again alerting him to his lack of dignity in his appearance. He finished dressing and said, again, "Immortal?"  
  
"Yes Achilles. Now," She fixed his clothes, not sad about their imminent separation, as she knew they would meet again once his trials were over. "You must go south-east, about thirty miles from here. Do not stop. You will find a traveling party with whom you must join. It won't be as difficult as you first believe, and I will guide you when I can."  
  
Then, knowing his mind, Thetis told Achilles "You are just outside Troy. That is why you must not go directly south. Your men and friends all believe you to be dead." She stopped, taking his hand in hers. "Go now, my son, and fulfill your destiny."  
  
Achilles was sad to leave his mother so soon, but none the less he did as she bid him. He walked now, unarmed and with only the clothes his mother had given him. Then suddenly he realised, and swung round to ask 'Mother, who am I meeting?' but she was not there. In this vast expanse of grassy sand, she had disappeared.  
  
Achilles resumed his march and soon discovered that he felt no physical pain or exhaustion. The sun on his back did not trouble him any more, nor the hot sand at his feet. This was his new life and, while the beauty of being doomed had disappeared, at least he now had a purpose. The gods, he swore, will still envy me when I am one of them.  
  
A/N: Alright, I'm getting there! Thanks all for the reviews, and I do apologise for the spacing issue I had earlier (it's been so long!) At the moment I'm just establishing what's "goin' down in da hood!" (j/k) and I promise you, crazy sex fiends, slash is on its way! If you have any ideas you want me to incorporate, please stick it in a review or email me (cerasi01hotmail.com) and I'll try to involve it. Thanks again and keep up that damned fine fic reading!  
  
CW 


	4. Old Acquaintance

After Troy Chapter 4 – Old Acquaintance  
  
Paris rose early. He still mourned the loss of his love, Helen, though some how he new she was not dead. He remembered Aphrodite's promise to gift him with the most beautiful woman in Achaea, should he give her the apple to mark her as the fairest goddess. He hoped that, somewhere, Aphrodite was looking out for them both.  
  
"So now we've both lost the one we love." Said Briseis, approaching Paris from behind. Paris had only discovered the affair between Briseis and Achilles after they had left the city, and in hindsight he regretted his actions, for her sake.  
  
"Briseis, I've been meaning to say..." He was interrupted.  
  
"No, Paris, he killed your brother, you had to avenge him." Briseis paused, stepping up beside her cousin to watch the sun rise. "Achilles was not really of this world, anyway. He belonged with the gods. You delivered him there, and I'm sure he would be grateful."  
  
Paris could say nothing. He had killed Achilles on impulse. Briseis was correct; it was the thought of Hector that had led him to it. Until the day of Hectors death he had admired Achilles for his prowess in battle. It had been said he was unbeatable, immortal even. If the old myths were anything to go by then Paris was lucky to have hit the heel.  
  
It still surprised him that he, Paris, the soul most inexperienced fighter in the Trojan army had been the one to defeat the warrior of Greece. Though it still stood that, in battle, Achilles had remained undefeated.  
  
"I suppose we'll have to find some money soon." He said at last, feeling it high time for a conversation change.  
  
"Do you have anything of value? I gave up personal possession when I became a priestess." Briseis told Paris. He reached into his bag, which lay at his feet.  
  
"Just what Helen left with Andromache, for me." He emptied the small bag into his hand. Tears threatened to enter his eyes as he viewed the contents. Helen's favourite earrings and the beautiful gold necklace were all that he now had to remember her by. The necklace he had given her, she had returned to him in parting. The sun flashed off them beautifully, reminding him of her golden hair and sapphire-blue eyes.  
  
Briseis closed his hand, encasing the treasures. "You're not to sell those unless you are on the brink of starvation, and even then I want you to consider every alternative." She told him. She had nothing to remember Achilles by and she knew how much it meant. Paris smiled and embraced her, still feeling desperately guilty about what he had done to her.  
  
When they parted he breathed deeply, the mid-morning sun already warming his face.  
  
"Alright," Andromache appeared from out of the tent she had some how procured the previous evening for the women. "It's time we got going." She roused those who had managed to sleep through the rising morning heat. Together they all fed and watered as best they could and packed everything again. The travel continued.  
  
At some point in their journey, when the sun was high in the sky, they paused for another break. Food was brought out and passed about, though supplies were now running low. During this pause, discussions were had, and plans formulated. Andromache proved herself as a leader, and all present wondered what life would have been like if this powerful woman had taken charge of Troy, and with Hector to boot.  
  
"Apollo is not kind today." Said Aeneas, of the sun. He was the boy to whom Paris had gifted the sword of Troy. He was a bright young man, a few years Paris' junior, and far better skill with a blade than Paris would ever be, having some how trained with the best. Yet it seemed to Paris that the boy held a secret. His father, Anchises, whom Aeneas cared for was a man who Paris had seen many times in the Trojan Palace. Hector had known Anchises, as had Priam. But Paris, only having recently returned to the family, had not known him. Both Anchises and Aeneas seemed to know who Paris was, though, much better than the average man of Troy.  
  
The two young men, Paris and Aeneas, being as sprightly and enthusiastic as each other had joined forces and each succeeded in keeping the other's mind off loss and trouble. The two were, at that moment, conversing regarding fighting techniques.  
  
"Well, the gods know I'm terrible with a sword." Paris admitted to Aeneas. "The bow is my real specialty." He boasted.  
  
"It shows. I mean, the down side, the sword side, was Aeneas." He paused, still a little uncertain about conversing in such a manner with the prince. Though they were related, fathers having been second cousins and all, Paris was yet to learn this. But Paris laughed, no longer feeling princely and pressured. He had relaxed and was in his element.  
  
"Yes, I know. Absolutely terrible, that." He laughed again. "If it hadn't been for Hector..." at this moment he paused. Aeneas decided to have input and ease the prince's pain.  
  
"But your archery skills are renowned." He told Paris, a smile and sense of admiration in his voice.  
  
"Thank you." Paris returned, soon loosing his gloom. He had always responded well to compliments.  
  
"Alright, boys, that's enough chatting. We have to keep moving. We need to reach town before we run out of food, and we've only got a little left." Andromache gave Paris a friendly nudge with her foot and smiled. There was something firm in her voice that drove them all, something hopeful, and a command over all. How she kept going with such strength was beyond Paris' comprehension.  
  
"Excuse me." An approaching man called out. The party of about twenty turned to face the speaker. Only one amongst them had really heard the voice before, though they had all heard it shouting a name at the impenetrable Trojan, eager for revenge. None remembered.  
  
"Excuse me," he repeated, "are you traveling from Troy?" he asked. The sun obscured his image and he was not yet close enough to be seen.  
  
"Yes brother, do you wish to travel with us?" It was Andromache who replied. She seemed incautious, while Briseis had frozen and Paris fingered his bow.  
  
"That would be greatly appreciated." The man said, almost in view. "You see, I've come from there myself, recently."  
  
At last he was seen by all, though with some disbelief. All 6-foot- something of him could be seen, blond hair, blue robes and muscles included. Silence held them all for a few moments while the man, with no fear, as was his wont, stood awaiting a reply. Only Briseis fared say a word.  
  
"Achilles?"  
  
A/N: Ahhh... another chapter. : ). I actually have chapter 5 written but.. hehehehe, I think I'll make you wait! Plus I need to proof-read, and all that boring mambo jumbo. Weird. And for all you Slash kids, official news, it will begin in chapter 6! You heard it here first (not that you could hear it anywhere else.) And a big hello to Lucy and her cousins! Hi Guys! I hope you're having fun! And thanks again for all the reviews from you other kids. By the by, if you have a fic, put it in a review and I'll r&r. So personal notes: Yana 5, he sure is going to meet paris! Meet, and greet, and eat... hehehehe. Carribeangoddess, nice to hear from you again! I'm buying the Iliad this weekend! Haha, the secrets shall be mine! And generally, did anyone else know that Patroclus was actually Achilles foster- brother and some historians reckon they were lovers too! Juicy, that'll have to be involved. Bradleigh, thanks for respecting my intro chapters. My HP fic just didn't go anywhere because I jumped in too quickly and failed miserably! Max, Hi Max! thanks, and I should hope it is interesting. Tell me if it gets boring because I'd have to fix that, hehehehe. (I'm so joyous tonight, laughing everywhere!) Lady Lenna: do you agree that Achilles should be cocky? He sort of came across that way in the movie so I figured... And the last person to have reviewed when I checked: x-shadowcat, I'll try not to keep you all waiting too long. I'm aiming for 1-2 days per chapter, they're short so it could work. Wow, would you look at the length of this thing! It rivals the story itself! Well, have fun guys, and again, any ideas, put 'em in a fic or email me (cerasi01hotmail.com) by guys! CW 


	5. For Briseis

After Troy Chapter 5 – For Briseis  
  
Before Paris knew it he had an arrow cocked and aimed directly at Achilles. "Don't move." He told Achilles. 'How is this possible?' he thought to himself. 'This is ridiculous.' He had seen the man drop to the ground, three arrows in his chest.  
  
"That will only work once, boy. I have no fear of that. And none of you should fear me, either, for that matter." He stopped and looked, now, directly at Briseis. A smile spread across his face and he stepped towards her.  
  
"Stop!" Paris yelled, halting Achilles in his tracks. "Briseis, are you certain it is him?" He asked her in an undertone. "Because I swear I killed him."  
  
"You did." Briseis said, in utter disbelief. "But like I said, he's not really of this world." She ran towards her lover and embraced him dearly. Paris lowered his bow and turned to explain the goings-on to the rest of the party.  
  
Andromache stood, child in arms, staring at her husbands killer, stunned and close to tears. She breathed deeply and turned from Achilles to her brother in law. Paris saw her eyes pleading for an explanation for this apparition, but he now realised that he could provide none.  
  
"Paris," Achilles now addressed him personally as he approached. He came close and Paris' had hovered threateningly over his bowstring. Achilles spoke more quietly now, so only Paris heard. "Did Hectors wife make it out?"  
  
A strange question to be sure. Paris, still stunned by the appearance of this dead man, nodded and indicated to where Andromache stood. "With their child." He said bitterly. He watched in disbelief as Achilles approached the woman and her baby.  
  
'This is not real.' Paris thought to himself. 'This is ridiculous, I'm still dreaming.' He shook his head, wanting desperately to wake-up, this was altogether unnerving.  
  
Achilles felt the painful strike of guilt as he viewed the child in the woman's arms. He had heard of Hector, even spoken to him at a celebratory function or some such, of his wife in days of peace. And he had heard, since being in Troy, that they had a child.  
  
"Andromache," Achilles spoke, glad to have recalled her name. He knelt before the woman. "Nothing I can say or do will repay the loss I have caused you, but since the death of your husband I have been enlightened to a great many things." Andromache's eyes released silent tears as she watched the warrior, still averting his eyes, kneel before her and speak of her husband. Achilles continued, "I offer you my sincerest apologies and condolences, and my services as a guard, if you are willing to accept." He was not, however, being entirely truthful.  
  
Achilles did desire, greatly, to apologise for the death of Hector, the Trojan hero, and this woman's husband. But he felt no remorse for killing him. Achilles had been brought up in a fighting world, full of war, where untimely death deserves revenge. In his mind he had every right to kill Hector. Hector had killed Patroclus. Achilles could not let go of the memory of his foster-brother turned lover, whom many perceived to be a cousin.  
  
It had been a fair match between Achilles and Hector, after all. The only man who had made him see that perhaps Hector's death was not right was Priam. If given a chance he would now gladly have switched places with Hector. Not Hector Andromache's husband, nor Hector Paris' brother, nor indeed Hector the father, but he would have traded places with Hector Priam's son. The old King of Troy had enlightened him to a great many things about honour and respect that night. A night he would never forget.  
  
"Your apologies and condolences I accept." Andromache broke Achilles train of thought. "But your service I deny. If you explain to us what brings you here I may deem you worthy to travel with us. But I would not have you in my service, that is a path I cannot walk."  
  
Achilles bowed his head, already in debt to this woman. "Thank you." He said. He began, then, to tell most of his tale. He told briefly of his involvement in the war, and in the final siege. He spoke of his desire to rescue Briseis being the reason he returned in the horse. He omitted his immortality; still being uncertain as to what should and should not be told, instead telling them that, for some reason or another, he had been chosen to remain on this earth a little longer.  
  
Paris watched, mesmerized by the tale. He did not trust the man but he, like many in their group, accepted that Achilles would travel with them. Andromache had given her word and that was all they needed, after having come so far with her.  
  
"At least until the first town." Andromache decreed, "There we will all be rethinking our paths. For the moment you are welcome in our party."  
  
That night, still bitter about Achilles' joining their party, Paris decided to cool himself off with a walk. The evening was clear, the moon a mere crescent in the sky. He strolled about 200 metres from the camp before he noticed someone following him.  
  
'Damn' he thought to himself, 'Fool, Paris. Out here, unarmed, that man traveling with us. Fool.' He continued to stroll, listening carefully. A fair distance, now, from the camp, he stopped and swung around.  
  
"Achilles," he said angrily, for he knew it was him. "Why are you following me?" The warrior came closer, and Paris could just make out his face in the moon-light.  
  
"Because you didn't let me get close enough to talk to you today." Achilles said. He raised his hands, palms facing Paris, "Unarmed, don't worry."  
  
"Why did you want to talk to me today?" Paris asked, accusingly. He still had no desire to trust the man, even if Andromache did. Though Achilles mood seemed much happier than it had earlier. Lighter, more playful. Paris just hoped that didn't change.  
  
"Because I want peace. I want a truce." Achilles didn't suggest friendship at this stage, neither of them wanted that yet. Nor were they ready for it.  
  
Achilles could almost have laughed as he observed this boy in front of him. And to think, he challenged Menelaus! Achilles was surprised he could even lift a sword.  
  
"A truce!" Paris mocked a laugh. "A truce! You killed my brother, and you want a truce!" He was furious. This was not the response Achilles had hoped for, but he responded likewise.  
  
"You killed me! Is that not enough revenge?" Achilles raised his eyebrows. "Your brother killed my Patroclus, I killed your brother, you killed me. By all rights, boy, if we continue down this path, I should now kill you!"  
  
Paris opened his mouth, but he could think of no argument to return. It was true, really, but that didn't justify anything. Or did it? He wasn't sure. It dawned on him, now, how vulnerable he was. Nevertheless he stepped challengingly towards Achilles.  
  
"Hector thought it was you that he killed. He told me so. Yet you killed him out of cold blood. You're nothing but a petty murderer." He spat.  
  
"A murderer!" Achilles, too, stepped forward. "It was a fair fight. Your brother accepted the challenge."  
  
"A challenge? That's all it is to you!" Paris was furious. "Killing men is just a sport for you. You disgust me!"  
  
"You wouldn't know what its like to kill a man." Achilles mocked the inexperienced boy. But he felt remorse, suddenly realising the way he was viewed by others.  
  
"I killed you." Paris retaliated, a proud smile crossed his face.  
  
"You've never killed a man in battle, where it counts. In fact," Achilles spoke as his realization occurred, the same cocky attitude occupying his demeanor, "you're pathetic. You stand so high because you are a prince. You have nothing else to stand by. You deserve none of the renown you receive, you're pathetic, and you're weak." That one, apparently, hit the spot.  
  
Paris lashed out and struck Achilles in the jaw. Before he knew it he had landed on the ground, pinned with Achilles weight, hands suspended above his head, face gripped with Achilles' spare hand.  
  
"Don't you insult me with your ignorance and weakness, boy." Achilles lowered his face level with Paris', the close proximity scaring the young prince out of his wits.  
  
"Get off me." Paris struggled, but to no avail.  
  
"Not until you understand." Achilles repositioned himself, one knee pressing down the prince's torso to hold him in place. "Not until you understand what it is really like to kill a man."  
  
Paris' eyes were wide with fear. Fear that he was about to learn his very last lesson.  
  
A/N: Again, a response to my lovely readers. Kendra3, Yana5, and x- shadowcat, I am very sorry about the cliffhangers, but they must continue, it motivates me to write. So you'll probably hate the end of this chapter. Hehehehe! And to all you lovely little fic critters out there, I may not be able to write much next week (its Friday for me, in lovely rainy ol' melbourne) because I have exams mon-wed. But after that we're in the clear. Then I have holidays!!!! So much updating going on then! Also, yeh, Patroclus and Achilles, hehehehe, I worked that in, did you notice? And to Two and Fury, thank you soooooo much! I actually read about Aeneas being the one to lead the survivors and found Rome, and my kids were going to catch up with him later, but I guess I'll change that now... hmm, ponders to self. But it was the other way around for me, I thought I'd get attacked by history buffs if I did put that in! hmmm.... Changes must occur. Any suggestions? Bah, all this work! Damned history buffs, they scare the hell out of me! Haha, two days till I buy the Iliad and then no more bastardly history buffs. Anyhoo, toodles kids! Keep a 'readin. And I've written chapter 6 so I'll type and post that in about... 20 hours. See ya chickadees! Oh, and hello to Lucy's friends again, I here you were reading my fic in English the other day! Should be working, guys! : )  
  
Aha! Struck with an idea just before I updated! What would you say to Aeneas escaping via his own route, and them all catching up and the sword and leadership being passed to him then? It's not really a spoiler, but could it work? When they reach the town? Tell me soon what you think! 


	6. The Lesson

After Troy Chapter 6 – The Lesson  
  
Achilles again found himself inwardly mocking the young prince Paris. He was in a complete state of power, pressed down upon this young man. Yet now he was uncertain as to what to say. What was his grand lesson? His legacy? What did he have to teach this boy or, rather, where did he start?  
  
Paris watched the ex-myrmidon commander stare down at him. The warmth of Achilles body could be felt, even on this hot night.  
  
"So," Achilles began, feeling much more subdued than before. He had proven his power, now he stood against an intellectual challenge. He decided to question the boy instead. "I was the first man you killed?"  
  
'What is he talking about?' Paris thought. 'I expected a lesson on life, love and war, not questions.' He replied nevertheless. "Yes."  
  
"And Helen was the first woman you loved?"  
  
'Maybe this is a lesson on life, love and war, after all. But for whom?' Paris pondered. "She was the only woman I've ever loved!" He said angrily. "Now remove your self, at once!" He struggled again, realising the secret about his life that he had divulged.  
  
"Not yet. So you've only ever loved one woman?" Achilles chuckled at this, though it surprised him, given how attractive the prince was. He really was inexperienced.  
  
"She was." Paris told him, no point denying it now. "Where is this leading?"  
  
"Oh, nowhere." Achilles resolved, amusing himself. "I just thought we'd have a chat while we've got the change." He smiled again and Paris would have hit him, if he could make use of his arms. Achilles changed position again, this time straddling Paris' waist. "So tell me about Helen. As you knew her. I, of course, met her as everybody else knew her, but what changed around you?"  
  
"We loved each other. That's all that needed to change." Paris was fuming, and embarrassed about being questioned like this. "She was my escape from the pressures of being a prince." He told Achilles, why was he telling Achilles? "And I was her escape from everything." He was telling Achilles because it needed to be told, regardless of who heard it. "We were in love." He stopped.  
  
"Where did she go?" Achilles asked. Something had broken down in each of them. For Achilles it was an emotional wall. The relationship he had with Briseis didn't mean much to him, though he did enjoy it and cared for her. The previous relationship, the one he had with Patroclus, was much deeper, and it had nearly killed him when Patroclus died. That was the closest he had ever come to love. It was not the same level that Paris was describing. Achilles was fascinated, absorbed in the prince's speech.  
  
"She went back into the city. She could no longer wait for me." Paris felt a tear escape his eye. Yet pride evaded him and it no longer mattered that Achilles was present. "She didn't believe that I would return." Paris gasped, partly at his own realization, also for air. Another tear left his eye and he closed them to resist the flow.  
  
Achilles watched the prince struggle with his emotions. Just then, a tenderness occurred within him, and reached his spare hand out and brushed away the wetness on Paris' cheek, at the same time as releasing his hands.  
  
Paris was shocked and looked up. The soldier upon him had changed somehow. His manner, his face and the emotions upon it. Care was written all over him. He closed his eyes again, feeling safer.  
  
Suddenly, and for no reason he could explain, even to this day, Achilles bent down and, without any consideration, kissed Paris. Tender, loving, and like nothing he'd ever done or felt before.  
  
But Paris' eyes shot wide open again. A state of alarm ran through him, and with a hidden strength that caught Achilles off guard he shoved him off and sprinted back to the camp.  
  
Achilles sat up, facing the retreating figure, mind clogged with regret. He suppressed his emotions again, as he had done for years. "Damn it." He said to the darkness. Then he found himself thinking 'Another time. Again, but another time.'  
  
"What?" he asked, arguing with his own thoughts. He remained where he was for several hour before rising, at dawn, to return to the camp, to face another day.  
  
At that moment, away in Mt. Olympus, Thetis watched her sons exploits with some degree of sadness. "My poor boy, after all you've been through! To be rejected again." She sighed, and Aphrodite pondered for barely one moment before making a decision.  
  
"It's time I intervened with my lovely Prince's love life again." She said to Thetis.  
  
"Aphrodite, you can't make him fall in love. That is forbidden." Thetis attempted to be the voice of reason, though she did desire greatly for her son to be happy.  
  
"I won't make him fall in love." Aphrodite said, mischievously. "I'll just... point out the advantages." She winked and got to work on devising a plan. "My first stop will be a little convincing for our good Zeus."  
  
A/N: Incidentally kids, if you care to check back on chapter 4 I made some changes, taking into account the Aeneas situation. Also!!!!oieur3wu84uwe! My dad went out today while I was at work and got the Iliad! Yay for him! I didn't even ask, he just randomly bought it! So I'll get to work on reading that and things will be sorted. So messages for readers again: Yana5, don't get your knickers in a knot! Just read. And believe me, I love Paris as much as you do! bradleigh, I have no idea what you're on about, but yay, thanks for reviewing, hehehe. And Caligula, jesus (sorry, religious types) man! You scare me with your good arguments and reasoning... why do people have to make so much sense. Anyhoo, the argument seemed alright when I was writing it. Heh, sorry dude! Purplemoofu, how much slashyness are you expecting, cos (sorry lucy) since my cousing started reading I feel tense about writing. Um... find the slash in my HP fic and see if that will do. And by the by, no cats, please! Euch! X-shadowcat! Nice to hear from you again! Can I call you x? hehe, x. sorry dude, had to be a cliff! I hope this is soon enough, I'm an hour and a half behind schedule already! Haha! Where'd you get the "I Love Slash" pin? I want one! Lydia, thanks for the review, and for respecting the depth! Unfortunately it's not such a small world, I live in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, other-side-of-the-world-in-the-middle-of-a-huge-fucking-ocean!!! Haha, you can't get there by bus! (Rove fans would appreciate that one). But still, Palm bay? Is it nice? Sounds nice. And last but, by no means least, LovemeBroken. Thanks dude! But don't expect too much, I'm not that good at writing anything slashy and, like I said, it's tense! Jesus (sorry, religious types, just a figure of speech), I may as well start an entirely new fic just for responses! Toodles kids! 


	7. Aeneas' Task

After Troy Chapter 7 – Aeneas' Task  
  
"What's upsetting you?" Aeneas asked Paris during the morning walk. They were nearing Lyrnessus, hoping to reach the town by night fall.  
  
"Oh, nothing." Paris lied. He glanced over to where Achilles walked with Briseis, and caught the warrior staring back in his direction. Both abruptly looked away.  
  
Aeneas shrugged and turned to catch a woman as she almost fell, a little faint from the heat.  
  
"Watch your step, now." Aeneas said kindly. "We're so close, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself now." He laughed, a little dazed by her beautiful eyes. The woman blushed, walking quickly to catch up with her group, ahead.  
  
"Quite the charmer, I see." Paris teased Aeneas. They both laughed.  
  
Aeneas' hand rested comfortably on the hilt of the Trojan sword. It was quite common to see him like this. He held the sword close at all times, determined that, at least, the people of Troy should have a future, if not Troy itself.  
  
Aeneas sighed now, looking from the sword to Paris, and then to the ground.  
  
"Perhaps it is you who needs to be questioned about their upset." Paris suggested, concerned for his companion's troubled mind, and looking to take the focus away from his own dilemma.  
  
Aeneas furrowed his brow, looking now to the horizon. "It's our future, that I ponder." He said. Paris was surprised to hear such deep thought from a common farm boy. "I mean," Aeneas continued, "what will happen to us? We travel now to Lyrnessus, but whither then?" He looked to Paris.  
  
"I cannot lead us." Paris said, he had never felt qualified for leadership. All his time in Troy he had presumed Hector would take over after Priam, and they would live out their lives thus.  
  
"Then," Aeneas pressed on, he had decided it was time the prince knew, "the responsibility falls on Andromache, or myself."  
  
Paris was confused, It was not that he thought the boy ambitious, or presumptuous. Only he had never considered it necessary, that path. How little he looked to the future.  
  
"Why do you feel the need to hold that position? It is a great task to care for these people, and find them a future." Paris awaited his response.  
  
At last Aeneas would voice the truth. "If all your brothers denied or were slain upon the Trojan throne," Aeneas lifted his head and breathed deeply as he continued, "I, Aeneas, son of Anchises, would have succeeded the throne as King." He looked at Paris, reading, as well as he could, the prince's thoughts.  
  
"Anchises," Paris looked to Aeneas' father, the recognition now hitting him, "my father's second cousin?"  
  
"Indeed." Aeneas nodded, adopting a much more formal tone that he had before.  
  
"Then that would make you..." Paris raised his eyebrows, "Aphrodite's son!" He smiled, "Fantastic," he said, "I met your mother."  
  
"I've not have the privilege, I'm afraid." Aeneas again looked to the ground.  
  
"Then today, my boy, is certainly your day." The woman he had assisted had returned, this time accompanied by the most exquisite woman ever to have graced this earthly plane. It was this woman who had spoken.  
  
"I beg your pardon," Aeneas said, "my day?" He was confused and certainly impressed by this woman's presence.  
  
"Today, Aeneas, son of Anchises, you meet your mother." The woman said.  
  
Aeneas was again confused. "But, where is she?"  
  
Paris laughed, for he recognized the woman's face. Aeneas, having overheard this laugh, glanced at Paris. "Aeneas," Paris spoke, "we are graced by the gods today."  
  
Aeneas looked at the woman. "Surely not..." he shook his head, "you couldn't be..."  
  
The woman bowed her head to him. "Aphrodite, at your service." She smiled and Paris was reminded of the apple he had gifted her, and why. Aeneas was stopped in his tracks.  
  
"Why are you here?" Aeneas asked.  
  
"To deliver your message." She bowed briefly to Paris, then indicated they should continue to walk, as they had already fallen behind. As they resumed she smiled, her mischievous, beautiful smile. "Aeneas," she began, before getting sidetracked with thought. She was proud of her son, though she had not been present for a great deal of his life. How she wished she could have watched him grow, in Troy, not from distant Olympus.  
  
"What is it that the gods command? How may I be of service to their greatness?" Aeneas implored his eternal mother and her companion.  
  
"Yours is a task which requires assistance from someone you would rather not deal with." She indicated to Achilles, walking yet some distance ahead.  
  
"Nay." Aeneas shook his head. "He defeated me in battle, that I will never forget. And the earthquake god told me to pull back whenever I face him." He would not ally his old enemy. To do so would mean defeat again.  
  
"He did not defeat you in battle, for you still live." Aphrodite reasoned. "That is a claim too many cannot make. And the decree of the earthquake god was to pull back whenever thrown against him. You are not against him in this, my son. You shall ally him so long as you support the gods. It is their will, that which you swore to obey, in life and death."  
  
Aeneas bowed his head. "Then what part must we each play, and what part together?" He begged of Aphrodite.  
  
Without saying a word, Aphrodite placed a hand on his cheek and conveyed to him, by means of thought, what his task was. Paris, still standing by his friend, heard none of what was said, nor did any other mortal creature.  
  
The full message, being both from the gods and personally embellished by Aphrodite herself, Aeneas took with him to the grave. When they broke from this contact Aphrodite stepped away from them and spoke briefly to the other woman. She returned after a moment.  
  
"Athena," she spoke, of the woman with whom she had appeared, "will remain with you. She can contact myself and those at Olympus, and will guide you all through your travels."  
  
They stopped now for Aphrodite's parting.  
  
"Good luck my son." She smiled and embraced Aeneas. "I will see you soon, I've no doubt."  
  
"Fairwell," Aeneas said, tears threatening as he recalled the message. With that the goddess faded from their sight.  
  
"What is your task?" Paris asked quietly, overawed in light of their visitation.  
  
"The future of Troy." Aeneas said, speaking only ever these words of it, and only once.  
  
A/N: I think, by the time I have written the final chapter, I will have fully rewritten the first chapters of this damned story! (I just made changes to the god speech at the end of chapter 6) Haha, I spoke to my lovely cousin the other night. Hi Lucy! And now I have a storyline. Oh, it feels so good to have direction and purpose! Oh, yay! But now Odysseus needs to return! Its not in my storyline, but he's so cool!!! Oh, and while I'm here, HI JAMY! How's Germany? Yana5! Ah, your fics are crazy! But so, so funny! Sorry for interrupting, by the way! Lady Lenna: lose himself in it, eh? Maybe he will next time! ;) And hi x! haha, so much easier... I hope you weren't waiting up for this chapter. I was 10 hours late with this one! And my bastardly brother wouldn't get off my damn computer! Tool! Hehehe, I really do have to find one of these badges. Or make one! A friend of mine has a badge-making machine... I'll ask. Bradleigh, have fun finding the changes, and there will be much, much more godly intervention! Sorry Paulismel! I just couldn't keep it up. Next time, dude! Carribeangoddess, I entirely agree about Paris! But either way! And Hector, and Odysseus, they're all so incredibly cool! Adora-chillwind, I'll do my best. Purplemoofu, I think I can handle that! Destiny lot, thanks dude, hopefully, where it is heading, people will actually have the patience to stick around and read it... It's going to be a loooong fic! And thanks to KFF! I aim to please! I'm off, kids! Hope to hear from you all soon. And I'll update, hopefully, tomorrow. Bye now! 


	8. Helen's End

After Troy Chapter 8 – Helen's End  
  
At the same time as Aeneas told Paris that "the future of Troy" was in his hands, several miles across the ocean, in the bedroom of the King of Kings, Helen prayed to the gods. She knelt by Agamemnon's bed, hands clasped, eyes closed. Her sister, Agamemnon's bride, Clytemnestra had had been sent from the room and the foul King sat on his bed, eating his between-women fill of grapes and wine.  
  
Helen, as before, sat kneeling beside the bed, praying to whichever merciful god would hear her, if indeed merciful gods existed. She prayed now, for her deliverance.  
  
"If the mighty gods of this world have any mercy," she begged, "they will send my murderer and saviour to me now. Deliver me from the clutches of this beast, take my body and purge it of sins not yet committed. He would have my body this night. But he must not have it. He must not. My love, heart, body and soul belong now and forever to Paris. If Paris, my dearest love, cannot have it then none shall."  
  
As she knelt, pleading for this final deed to be done, it was Aphrodite who took mercy. She, of all the gods, understood love best. And he would not have one such as this woman fouled by the so-called king of kings. Thus she took one of Zeus' lightning bolts and took it upon herself to end the woman's life.  
  
It was that fateful night when Helen, of her own free will and still bearing her dignity, pride and honour intact, became no more than a legend. Her spirit was taken from the room and released into the underworld, guarded forever after by Hades, in peace at last.  
  
A/N: Hey, kids. I know, it's short, but I have exams so it's all that I could whip up. I should be able to write more tomorrow because I have the day off. But for the moment be satisfied that Helen is free, and Paris has no need to worry any more for his love. By the way, over the next week or so I am re-updating all my chapters with various corrections. Like the first chapter with those damned gods! But first, Everkitsune, it's only half slash, go with me on this one. But as I was saying to my dear Lucy the other day, it's 85% satisfied audience or 15% satisfied audience. So generally I write slash. Bradleigh, as always your review is soo satisfying! Thanks man. Nice to know someone respects my approach. Yana5... Haha, I just keep thinking about your fic! Oh... but the next chapter is coming out... well, you just read it! And x, oh, x. Sorry! I know, it's a whole 10 hours late! Darned brother. I blame it all on his insistence upon doing homework! Ridiculous stuff! And yes, the badge making machines, so good! And slash is coming soon! I promise. But not too much. So much to sort out! Like, how the hell do I deal with Briseis? Please help, anyone who reads this and has any idea as to how to dispose of her... Please.... Once that's done, I swear to you, slash! I swear it on Styx! (Yeh, you heard me, styx!) toodles! 


	9. Plans Hatched

After Troy Chapter 9 – Plans Hatched  
  
Zeus sat still on his throne, awaiting the return of Aphrodite. Yet, as she returned from her brief visit to Paris and Aeneas, he was so deep in thought that he didn't look up.  
  
"My lord," Thetis alerted him to the occurrence, "you can commence now. Why, exactly, am I here?"  
  
Zeus signaled for Aphrodite to take a seat. "You are here because I thought it appropriate that you know exactly what is going on with your son." He told Thetis.  
  
"No one told me that he was to be immortal." Thetis pointed out. She was happy, of course, but completely unprepared. She had only discovered it afterwards when they had asked her to deliver him the message, and his clothes of course.  
  
"True." Zeus nodded. "But this time you are to be involved."  
  
"I have left Athena with Aeneas." Aphrodite told them both, desiring very much to turn the conversation towards the matter at hand, and herself. "She can hear every word we say."  
  
"Very good." Zeus said. "So you have Aeneas on track?"  
  
"Yes. And he's quite a looker, too! Of course, with a mother like me..." She laughed.  
  
"Well then," Zeus decided to skip to the point. "I have decided that the easiest way to get the boy, your boy Thetis, on track is to give him specific tasks. If we don't I fear he will take the war side of the deal to seriously and neglect the love element."  
  
"Yes." Thetis admitted. "That is a very good point."  
  
"So," Aphrodite took up the speech, "we... I mean our lovely Zeus here, came up with an idea."  
  
"I have decided to focus on his three greatest personality flaws," Zeus reclaimed the conversation, "and have each flaw dealt with in a separate task. Each separate task will be given to him by the appropriate god."  
  
"Personality flaws?" Thetis raised an eyebrow. Then she pondered it for a moment. "Oh, yes, good idea. So which ones have you chosen?"  
  
"Well I," Aphrodite spoke up, "will be targeting his lack of love." Her chin rose with pride.  
  
"What do you mean, precisely?" Thetis asked.  
  
"Well, while many love and adore him, he has never actually been able to love anyone in return. He has no idea what true love is."  
  
"So that's why you wanted him to travel with that party?" Thetis queried.  
  
"Exactly." Aphrodite nodded.  
  
"To find true love?" Thetis clarified.  
  
"Indeed. Which he will." Aphrodite nodded again, feeling rather pleased with herself.  
  
"With Briseis?" Thetis teased, knowing this not to be true.  
  
"Precis... wait, no. Uh, not exactly. You see..."  
  
"It's alright, Aphrodite." Thetis smiled. "She is not where his heart lies."  
  
"You knew?"  
  
"A mother always knows. But she is a lovely girl."  
  
"Granted." Zeus stole back into the conversation. "But she was still just his prize, his share of the spoils of war. Also, Achilles could have any being on earth, if he so desired. With Briseis there was no challenge, and we all know that Achilles loves a challenge. He craves it, part of the reason he is so successful in war. He fights with the hope that he will find a worthy opponent. Briseis is no worthy opponent in terms of love, and challenge. Paris, on the other hand..."  
  
Now this, to an onlooker from our time, this conversation could seem strange, given the perceptions of homosexuality in society. In fact it was not at all odd, and Zeus himself was well known for his lovers of both genders. But Apollo was not so keen.  
  
He stood nearby, in the shadows, out of sight, sound and mind of the other gods, listening to the plans being hatched. To him, the thought of a man's 'involvement' with another man was horrid, and not to be accepted. At once he decided to make a short trip to Hades, and the Underworld.  
  
Apollo didn't bother to wait and hear the rest of the plans, nor indeed that the third task had not yet been though up. If he had waited he may have decided to make a visit to Italy as well, as that would be the destination for the travelers, if all went according to plan for the gods.  
  
Alas for Apollo, he waited not. Instead he plunged forth into the realm rarely visited by the living, to ask a favour of the Lord of the Dead.  
  
"Hades." He called upon entering.  
  
Hades rose up out of the rock floor, an imposing figure with whom few ever argued. Apollo was not here to argue, though.  
  
"What is it you want?" Hades drawled, sad to discover it was Apollo who had come to visit and not the young woodnymph he had met and bedded a few nights before.  
  
"Hades, your brother sends me with a mission." Apollo lied. Hades let ought an exasperated sigh.  
  
"If Zeus wants something why does he not come down of his throne and get it himself?" Hades questioned, not really seeking an answer. "Oh, I forgot. He's the king of the gods. He doesn't even have enough time to visit his own brother!" Hades yelled this last part at the ceiling of his underground cavernous abode. "Never was much of a family man." He laughed bitterly and sighed, turning his attention back to Apollo. "So what does he want, anyway." Hades sat down in his own throne having vented his frustration. The throne was similar to that of his brother though dark and earthen, as opposed to gleaming gold.  
  
"He wants to..." Apollo paused. He knew what he wanted done, but to make it sound legitimate, that was another matter.  
  
"Yes?" Hades pressed. "I haven't got all day, Apollo. In fact, I have no days, and very little time, so get on with it, if you please."  
  
"He wants you to," Apollo thought fast, "to make an exchange."  
  
"What kind of exchange?" Hades asked, his interest peaked.  
  
"Living for dead." Apollo told him. "It's a matter of... well, it's complicated."  
  
"So who have I got that my dear brother wants back in his realm?" Hades mulled over the recent deaths.  
  
"The Trojan, Hector." Apollo told him. This was turning out to be as simple as he had hoped. Achilles was doomed, and Apollo would never have to face him as a god.  
  
"I see." Hades nodded. "Well, luck for him." He smiled, having not done such a deal as this in a very long time. "So what new being have I to add to my collection?" He smiled. "Who's the live one?"  
  
Apollo, too, smiled. "You won't miss Hector once you get your hands on this one."  
  
"Well, who is it?" Hades was impatient.  
  
"It's Paris."  
  
A/N: Oh, yay! I can update! I swear I will never post another "rant" again! I swear it. I swear by the glorious river Styx! I can update! Well, thank you to all those who understood my crazy predicament and were able to read the unfortunate "rant". Also, please don't kill me for this chapter. It had to be a cliffie, it was so appropriately suspenseful. Plus, to finish the conversation would be boring and lack in dramaticism. (apparently that's not a word!) Anywhoo, hope you enjoy, and two chapters in one night! Go me! Toodles, kids! 


	10. The First Task

After Troy Chapter 10 – The First Task  
  
The same night that the gods decided his fate, Achilles was feeling somewhat worse for ware. The first thing he had decided to do when they had reached town was hit the drinks. Anything to stop his thoughts from dwelling on that kiss.  
  
"So you're from Troy, too?" Asked the barmaid. She was a plump woman, in her late thirties, though she had very beautiful eyes. Achilles looked up, his own eyes struggling to focus.  
  
"In a way." He smiled at her and winked. His speech had not lost any of its fluency. He had to be very, very drunk to lose that ability. He sighed, screwing up his nose at the drink and returning it, what remained of it, to the bench. He could feel his stomach beginning to roll about, and he grunted at the thought.  
  
"You poor things." The barmaid continued. This man was very handsome, with the physique of a warrior. She hoped he would be staying in town a while yet. "Were you in the army?" She asked, spotting a few slightly obscured tattoos on his body, and his strong arms.  
  
"I was in an army, and only because I so chose." He gloated. The barmaid thought him very secretive, though she continued to listen. Achilles mumbled now, mostly to himself. "No king has ever ruled or will ever rule me." He muttered. The woman could not make out what he said after that. "Nor any damned prince."  
  
Achilles suppressed a burp and yawned. He stood up and waved a hand to the barmaid as he left the room.  
  
"Good night, then." She called after him, admiring his retreating form.  
  
"What an odd man." A woman spoke up from the seat next to the one in which Achilles had sat.  
  
"He was." The barmaid smiled. "Can I get you anything to drink?"  
  
Achilles stumbled back to the inn where they were all spending the night. He desperately wanted a bed. 'And preferably,' he thought to himself, 'one with a woman in it.' He chuckled to himself.  
  
"Good evening, soldier." A lovely voice said from behind him. It had a melodic ring to it, like water trickling down a forest stream.  
  
"What?" Achilles swung, albeit uncoordinatedly, around to face the speaker. "Who're you?" He squinted, though he still failed to make out the face.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry soldier." She teased, knowing his mind. "My name is Athena."  
  
"I'm not in an army." Achilles raised his arms and looked about. "Why do you call me 'soldier'?"  
  
Athena just smiled, awaiting the other question that would soon come.  
  
"Hold on." Achilles caught on. "Athena?"  
  
Athena nodded, then beckoned for Achilles to follow. He did so without question, wondering to himself why there was another goddess on his hands. Athena led him around the back of the inn, glancing about every now and then to make sure only one man followed her. She sat him down and stood at a distance she deemed safe.  
  
"Do you know why I am here?" She asked.  
  
"No." Achilles responded bluntly.  
  
"I am here, on behalf of Aphrodite, to deliver your first task." She told him.  
  
"What do you mean by task?" Achilles tipped his head back, drunkenly admiring the young specimen before him. He quickly righted himself as he almost fell of the back of the bench.  
  
"You are to be given three trials." Athena spoke quickly, not wishing to divulge too much, too loudly. "Each by a different god. When you pass all three you will have succeeded and will ascend."  
  
"I see." Achilles nodded. The truth was that he did not really see, nor understand. He would, however, pretend to. "So where do I start?"  
  
"Your first task, as decreed by Aphrodite, is a complicated one, as it relies on others and not just yourself." She was still uncertain as to how to deliver the message.  
  
"You'd best tell me quickly before I get bored and fall asleep. Unless you'd like to join me for the evening." He raised an eyebrow to Athena.  
  
"You are embarrassing yourself, Achilles." Athena said, sternly.  
  
"I am not embarrassed." He smiled and reached out a hand to her. "Not at all."  
  
"Your mother is watching all of this from Olympus." Athena said simply. Achilles quickly withdrew his hand.  
  
"Your task, as I was saying, is simply this: you must find true love." She nodded once, reassuring herself that she had got it right.  
  
"What?" Achilles again leant back, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"  
  
"It cannot be much simpler, Achilles. You are to find true love and win it in return."  
  
"Will you give me no hints?" Achilles asked.  
  
Athena shook her head. "We can give you nothing."  
  
She took a step closer, of a mind to leave soon. "This task will allow you to understand the love element of your godly being." She bowed to him. "I will leave you to ponder." She said, stepping back. She paused and smiled. "Good luck." She told him before disappearing into the night.  
  
"Oh, thank you." Achilles frowned. His mind was still muddled from his earlier drinks.  
  
"True love?" He shook his head. "I knew there was a reason I didn't worship them." He shook his fist at the sky, certain someone on Olympus would see him. "Crazy gods." He muttered, before settling back down to a few hours of pondering which, in truth, lasted a few minutes before he retired to bed. 'True love?'  
  
A/N: Haha! The tests begin! Not much else to say, especially because I just wrote the authors note for chapter 9. But I can respond to reviews! Though I have no idea to what I have already responded. Anywhoo, thanks to those dudes I was able to email about the insanity du lack of updatability. So I guess... from the bottom of the page. Bradleigh, thanks for the adding to the favourites (I'm touched!) Yana, indeed, Helen was pretty cool. But it just doesn't work for the slash fiends. Or maybe it does, you never know. Jamy! Did you get my email. Oh, my dear lord, I love Johnny and Viggo. Everyone, who else adores Johnny and Viggo! So glorious, so brilliant, in every possible way. Oh, I love them. And, albeit unrelated, I saw Harry P on the weekend. So good! Though Sirius should have been hotter. I am in love with Sirius Black! There ya go, I've gone and said it! Purplemoofu, you crazy slash addict. But we're getting there. Can you guess who Achilles' true love is? No? Well, keep trying! EverKitsune, sorry dude. She is cool, I know, but she had to go. Rhyme! Also, I hope this chapter was longer. Yana, again! Review hogger! Thanks for being understanding. And the same can be said for x, purplemoofu and... well, I guess you are the only people who were able to read my apology before it was removed... hmm. Thanks guys! Lady Lenna, thank you very much ma'am. Lady, indeed! Lady who reads slash! I think not!!!!! mi-au, thanks for that! Hold on, I recognise that email. Why the unsigned review? Crazy. Cerasi1, oh wait. That's me! Hahahahahahaha. ('Oh, and in case you couldn't tell, I was being sarcastic.' Homer S.) And Golden song. Thankyou indeed! Hope you enjoyed! 


	11. Achilles' Choice

After Troy Chapter 11 – Achilles' Choice  
  
Achilles, after waking that morning with a pain in his head and a hatred of light, had ventured a walk towards the ocean. He stood, now, atop a low- rising peak, looking far across the horizon to where he could just make out the blue, deeper and greener than the sky's, of the ocean. Any human would have been unable to discern this detail, but Achilles' abilities changed and enhanced each day, much to his pleasure.  
  
Reflecting on the ocean, Achilles' thoughts turned to Odysseus, his old friend. He would now be traveling, in one of the many ships, back over the ocean. Very soon, Achilles pondered, Odysseus would be home, in Ithica, most likely never even dreaming of seeing Achilles again.  
  
He had been a great friend, and had stood by him even when Patroclus would not.  
  
"We could have won Achaea together, Odysseus and I." Achilles mused. They had been grand friends, in many more ways than one.  
  
At the memory of Achaea, Achilles sighed. He would dearly have loved to see his Myrmidons again, and his father, Peleus. Even his illegitimate, long- lost son would have been a blessing. But it was Patroclus and Odysseus that he missed the most.  
  
He was unable to distract himself with even the lovely Briseis any longer. As sweet and loving as she was... well, she went no deeper than that. There was nothing more to it. It couldn't compare to any of the fun he had shared with Patroclus and Odysseus, nor the strange, somewhat disturbing, passion he felt for the boy, Paris.  
  
"Paris." Achilles amused himself by saying the name, allowing it to float from inside him. He chuckled to himself, repeating it a few times and noticing the way it built up inside one's mouth before exploding, either in two long seductive, or short sharp syllables, however he so chose.  
  
Breathing deeply, the sun now reasonably high in the sky, it's light less annoying, he decided to return to Lyrnessus. As he viewed the horizon once more, noting the blues and speaking the young Trojans name, he came to a final conclusion. He would follow the passion he felt, and see where it led him.  
  
"After all," he pondered aloud, "it's hardly going to kill me."  
  
Paris had woken that same morning to note the absence of Aeneas. This was not, however, entirely unexpected. Aeneas had taken to having private conversations with Andromache, of late. Then he would consult Athena, who still traveled among them as a commoner, and then he would sit down for a drink and a brief chat with Paris, before returning to Andromache. Paris had no doubt they were still planning the 'future of Troy'. Fortunately he felt no indignation at being left out of the plans, it was not his desire to get involved.  
  
So Paris, after arising to an empty room, had gone to poke about the town. It had still not entirely recovered from the Achaean attacks which had occurred earlier than the attack on Troy itself. But Lyrnessus remained largely Trojan-populated. Their group of travelers had already been faced twice with Achaean soldiers, but had been ignored as commoners.  
  
Achilles, Paris chuckled as he watched the man approach, had taken to 'disguising' himself with hooded robes. Unfortunately his very size and physical form gave him away as not-the-average-farmer, but most pretended they didn't notice.  
  
Paris observed the man with keen eyes, and became slightly worried when he noticed a strange glint in the warrior's eye, the mischievous grin on his face.  
  
"Good morning, Paris." Achilles said, winking at the boy as he passed. Achilles had decided, on his return walk, that he would start his advances immediately. Paris was conveniently, for Achilles, placed in the doorway to the inn. As such Achilles made it his business to brush perhaps a tad closer than usual as he walked by.  
  
Paris shivered at the touch, noticing the warriors hand lingering on his waist. 'Why is he so relaxed?' he wondered, of Achilles. He, personally, had felt slightly put out since the night Achilles had... kissed him. 'But,' he supposed, 'he must bounce back well from rejection.'  
  
Suddenly Paris realised he had nor replied which, he cursed himself, made him appear foolish. He turned to catch Achilles, but the man had already disappeared through another door.  
  
Paris felt confused, yet again, by his and Achilles' actions. Paris, himself, had reason to be civil, he was doing it for Aeneas. But, Achilles? What purpose had he?  
  
Paris shook his head. He would leave it and hope that the pleasantries remained just that, pleasantries. He went, now, to find some food, an uncomfortable feeling rising within his gut that he hoped was hunger. The issue of Achilles could and would wait.  
  
Only Paris was ignorant as to what, exactly, Achilles was waiting for. But he would soon find out. That very night, in fact.  
  
A/N: eech! I have no idea where I got upto. But hey, you won't hate me if I don't respond... will you? Peanut Gallery - Alaska's Own. Now, that is a new one! Feral toddlers? Shakers? You confuse me, dude! But hey, constructive advice I guess! : ) thank you! Lol, purplemoofu, you entertain me so! You go get 'em with your detective hat! But I am sorry to announce that there will be no Achilles/Hector, Achilles/Aeneas OR Achilles/Apollo action going down, but keep your hopes up, maybe someday someone out there will write a crazy gang-bang fic with all four of them, and you can just be in heaven! And Lucy! You reviewed! Oh you reviewed! Haha, Harry Potter twice within one week, that's pretty good for me! And thank you for proclaiming me the family prodigy, but hey, I already knew that! Hehehehe! Jamy, yay for Johnny and Viggo, and thank you for your review! I'll write to you soon. Lady Lenna, nice to hear from you m'dear! How's the weather in slash-fic- reading-ladies' land? Kage Miko, a new comer! So many new-comers! Indeed it is the best damn pairing... for this movie! I have to say, favourite pairing ever is Sirius/Remus. And I got vibes in that movie? Did anyone else pick that up? In the shack?... maybe it's just me... hmm... anyhoo! And Goldensong, greetings again! And you'll find out in the next chapter! Toodles kids, gotta go! cw 


	12. The Seduction

After Troy Chapter 12 – The Seduction  
  
Paris yawned, just about ready for bed. Aeneas had disappeared to talk business with Andromache shortly after dinner and Paris had been left to his own devices at the bar. Achilles chose this moment to make his reappearance. Briseis had fallen asleep in his room after... well, one can only imagine, and Achilles, feeling relaxed and rather self-confidant had decided to go in search of some further entertainment.  
  
Paris looked up as Achilles sat down beside him at the bar. Paris shifted uncomfortably, still angry and confused when it came to this large well- built man.  
  
"You're back, I see." The barmaid spoke to Achilles. Paris had proven distracted and quite poor conversation for her.  
  
"Indeed." Achilles smiled. "And how is your evening shaping up?" He asked politely, more interested in the boy who sat beside him.  
  
"Oh, not bad, not bad." She told him, gracing him with a sweet smile. Her eyes sparkled, "No drunks yet."  
  
"Yet." Achilles winked at her, thinking privately of Paris. He turned to the boy who, at that time, was staring quite intently at the wooden bench before him. "And how are you feeling?" Achilles asked Paris. "Any more talkative than you were earlier?" The barmaid muffled a laugh.  
  
"Yes." Paris said, embarrassed and feeling rather tense. "Much better, thank you. And how was your walk this morning?"  
  
"Very good." Achilles reflected. He stared at the boy. He was positive now, judging by the excitement he felt all over, that Paris was, indeed, the one he was supposed to be searching for. He knew, of course, that the prince still felt angered about Hector's death, that much was obvious. That, however, was just an obstacle he would have to overcome.  
  
That evening, however, Achilles had been organized. He knew what he planned to do, and had done everything in his power to make it happen. He had spoken to Athena earlier and, as far as he was concerned, confirmed that Paris was his "true love". He had also arranged for Athena to distract Aeneas for the evening, eventually having him fall asleep in a room other than his own. Achilles was rather proud of himself for the amount of thought he had put into this, and the amount he would soon get out of it.  
  
Paris, again, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to be as kind and civil as he could, blocking out the memory of Hector.  
  
The only trouble was that his feelings regarding Achilles were polarized. He either loved him or hated him. When he allowed Hector and Troy and that damned kiss into his mind he despised the man. But when he thought of his earlier admiration for Achilles, and the way in which Achilles had treated Briseis and his father, Priam, and when he thought of that damned kiss... Paris shook his head. 'What am I thinking?' His mind cut in. 'That night was wrong, it was terrible, disgusting, beautif...'  
  
"No!" Paris said aloud. Achilles stared at him, eyebrow poised higher than usual.  
  
"No?" He asked. "No, what?"  
  
"Oh," Paris felt stupid, yet again, "nothing."  
  
"I'll by you a drink." Achilles said. "Ease your 'no's'." Achilles smiled.  
  
"My nose?" Paris questioned, raising his hand to his face. "What is wrong with it?"  
  
Achilles laughed. "Never mind." He said. "There is nothing wrong with your nose." Then thinking to himself he added 'there's nothing wrong with any part of your body.'  
  
Achilles signaled and the barmaid brought over two drinks, rather alcoholic, which Achilles was later glad for.  
  
Paris sipped at his drink. "Thank you." He said. The initial bitterness passed down his throat, giving way to the sweet after taste.  
  
Achilles watched Paris from where he sat. He admired the prince's dark curls as they fell delicately about his face. He admired Paris' neck as he tipped his head back to drink deeper.  
  
Paris, aware of his being watched, glanced around the room, searching desperately for Aeneas. But no such salvation would come. He took another swig from his drink, being careful this time, not to expose his neck. He closed his eyes, feeling the dizzy buzz in his head.  
  
"Are you feeling quite well?" Achilles asked, knowing all too well the early signs of drunkenness.  
  
"Fine thank you." Paris shook his head, ridding himself of the taste. He felt off balance and more impulsive than usual.  
  
Achilles pondered to himself, now. 'I don't want him to be drunk.' He thought. 'then it wouldn't be love.' He looked around the room, catching a few young women staring at him. It was then that he realised, as he had so many times before, just how incredibly attractive he was. 'I know how to seduce someone.' He thought. 'Anyone. I've done it before, what is stopping me from doing it again?'  
  
"Come." He carefully touched Paris' back at its most tender point. "I'll see you back to your room, I can see that you have never drunk much before." He smiled as Paris stood, obeying his advances. His defense was already lowered.  
  
Achilles opened the door to Paris' room, only a sliver, ensuring nobody was inside. He then opened it fully, lighting a torch by the door to cast some light on the room, though only a little.  
  
"There's no need to come in." Paris said, observing Achilles warily. "Honestly, I can manage." But as he entered the room his footing was slightly off, Achilles decided to draw attention to this fact, giving him a reason to be present.  
  
"You are already showing signs of clumsiness, even that one drink has done this to you?" Achilles laughed, he knew the boy wasn't drunk but he doubted very much the boy's ability to resist. "I'll just... help you into bed." He smiled mischievously as he approached Paris who still stood by the slightly open door.  
  
When Achilles reached the boy he leant towards him, reaching an arm between Paris' arm and torso, locking the door behind him. Retracting his body, Achilles gripped Paris, ever so lightly, at the waist, encouraging Paris to walk back with him to the bed.  
  
By this stage Paris couldn't deny the allure he was feeling. The arousal had begun with his quickened heartbeat, and spread to the heat he felt and the deepening of his breaths. He began, now, to sweat all over. He gasped slightly when Achilles touched his side and followed willingly, though his mind told him not to. The anger had begun to resurface.  
  
"No." He said suddenly, stopping his course. His mind and body had finally acknowledged Achilles' full intention. "I will have no part in this. You killed my brother, and now you would use me as you would a common whore!" He tried in vain to suppress the tingling sensation he was feeling, a deep yearning inside him.  
  
"I would never mean to use you." Achilles responded, taking Paris' wrist to ensure he didn't leave. "And, rest assured, you are no common whore. I search not for sex, as you suspect."  
  
Paris drew his eyebrows together. "For what, then, do you search?" He begged.  
  
Achilles lowered his hand from Paris' wrist to hold his hand, entwining their fingers. "I search for a fulfillment of love." He told him. "And love itself." He knew this was a long-shot, as the boy had only recently lost his 'love', but he had long suspected Paris of being a romantic, and this time he had hit the mark.  
  
Paris drew a deep breath. "You lie." He accused.  
  
"Often, and to many, yes. But not to you, not now. Never." Achilles smiled sweetly, his advances working a charm.  
  
Paris' heart, the same heart that had been closed to all since Helen's departure, was suddenly open, free, ripe for the plucking. But he would not have it plucked by just anyone. Not by any, but by one.  
  
Suddenly Paris realised where his admiration for the warrior had stemmed from all these years. He felt an unexplained attraction to the man. A set of feelings, intensified by the mystery and forbidden fruit that was Achilles. He hesitated no longer, following the warrior to the bed and collapsing, with a graceful ease, on top of him.  
  
"So," Achilles spoke softly, "are you ready to love another?"  
  
Paris said nothing, but answered with a pure, soft, closed kiss.  
  
Achilles broke away, pushing Paris back gently. "Are you sure about this?" He asked. He didn't know why, but he felt a responsibility to the boy, as though he should be caring for him. He supposed it was because he had stolen Paris' protector when he had killed Hector and, in caring for the boy, he felt he was repaying him somehow.  
  
He knew what this could all mean to Paris if he should regret it afterwards, so he was careful not to risk losing him through haste.  
  
"I am certain." Paris replied, his breath shuddering slightly.  
  
This time Achilles initiated the kiss, deepening it with his tongue, exploring the boy's body with his hands. He switched positions, lying Paris on his back, cradling the boy's shoulders with his large, muscular arm. Achilles ran his other hand across Paris' collarbone, and down his chest. He untied the belt and drew it out, tossing it aside. Tenderly he took both hands and removed all Paris' remaining clothing. Doing the same to himself he then returned to Paris at last, indulging himself with another kiss.  
  
That night Achilles got his fulfillment of love, and Paris, Paris remembered that night, forever, as the most tender, passionate night he had ever experienced. For both this was the acknowledgement of their love.  
  
A/N: Hmm... Doodoodoo! And off we go! By the way, they had sex that night, in case you couldn't tell. But I'm not a fan of writing graphic sex, not my thing. Can you see, for those of you who have read HP, how much confidence I have lost in writing slash? It's terrible. I'll have to read them again and take some tips, from the younger me! OK, now, readers! Sorry I didn't write earlier! Two nights ago I was watching John Butler Trio (see it if you can, best live performance I've seen thus far!) and last night my brother was on the computer and he only agreed to let me writing in the ad breaks of what I was watching on tv! (Little Women, oh the shame!!!) OK, I'll be brief. Actually, I'll run a poll. Do you think I should (a) keep writing long author's notes, or (b) start writing short ones. Tell me, and next time I will write accordingly. Alright, bradleigh, how are you doing, mate? Having fun? Crazy kid! Kage Miko, you are insane! I hope you are going to be a regular reader! I love my crazy regulars! Yana5, thanks dude! I owe it all to you. Now, Peanut Gallery – Alaska's Own, you are definitely the weirdest of my crew! By the way, can I call you Peanut? It's ever so much easier! purplemoofu, as my cousin and I were discussing the other day, I love you, man! So great, so funny. And I would really respect that fic! You should definitely write it, I would read AND review each and every chapter. Please do, oh the amusement. Lady Lenna, puts on snobby old pommy accent good eve to you! I am most certainly riveted to read your enchanting reviews! And, be a good girl, don't go changing your name, now will you? no more accent! Goldensong, I did as you asked. And Gilrean, welcome to the wacky world of my reviewers! Thank you, all! By now, hope you enjoyed, please tell me what to do next because I am stumped. Lucy, call me! Call Me Damn You!!!! 


	13. Tricks of the Trade

After Troy Chapter 13 – Tricks of the Trade  
  
Briseis awoke early in the morning to discover Achilles gone, again. She supposed that he had gone on one of his dawn walks, which were becoming increasingly common nowadays. She arose and decided to go for a walk, herself. Though perhaps just about town.  
  
It had been her town once, her home town. She had grown up here and had been quite content until the Achaeans had invaded the Trojan-owned land and destroyed everything. It stood now, a shadow of it's former beauty. In stead of a bustling market and trade town with busy streets, it was a wreck, all but lost in the destructive path of Agamemnon.  
  
Her whole family had been killed in the siege; she hadn't even been given a chance to farewell them. Then she had been taken captive and gifted to Achilles. His share of the 'spoils of war'.  
  
Had it been any other man, Briseis may have taken her own life, rather than suffer such indignity, but Achilles was gentle and kind. He had never forced anything upon her, as he so easily could have. He was not like the other men. She loved Achilles, dearly.  
  
As Briseis wandered quietly along the streets she heard her name called out. A man was running toward her, an arm outstretched. Briseis couldn't tell who it was, with the sunlight behind them. When, at last, the man reached her, Briseis saw who it was and very nearly fainted.  
  
Alec, Briseis' brother, was the one sprinting as fast as he could to her. Her brother, whom she had believed dead, was alive and running, or was it just her imagination? When she felt his body collide with her own and embrace her, she knew it was true, it was him.  
  
"Alec," She said, tears of joy welling in her eyes, "is it really you?"  
  
"It is!" He said, overjoyed. He pulled back to admire her.  
  
"I thought you were dead." She whispered, astounded at this magical reappearance.  
  
"And I, you." Alec said. He shook his head. "Oh, there is so much to say, to explain." He held her at arm's length. "Come, I will take you home." He smiled and Briseis finally knew what had been lacking from her life for so long. She followed him, comforted and feeling safe, at last.  
  
"A drink?" Alec asked as he sat Briseis down at the table. "We haven't much, I'm afraid." He said. "Everything you see is what I have managed to save from the raids, what I have recovered." He smiled feebly. "But we still have home, right?"  
  
"We still have home." Briseis repeated, reassuring her dear brother of what he needed to hear. "I wouldn't mind some water if you have any."  
  
"The best there is." He smiled, proud of one thing.  
  
Alec was two years younger than Briseis, though he had always been as Hector was to Paris, her defender. When he discovered that she had been taken by the Achaeans, he had nearly gone after Achilles himself, though he had been restrained, in the end, by friends who were sensibly wary of the mighty Achilles. Thus, Alec had sat in waiting, hoping against hope that Briseis was still alive. Then one morning, this morning, a friend had rushed into his house bearing the most unbelievable news to have graced his ears in all his life. Briseis had returned.  
  
Alec sat, now, watching his sister carefully sip the sweet water. She sighed.  
  
"Briseis." Alec spoke, now, questions having arisen in his mind. "Tell me, how is it you came to be returned to Lyrnessus? Troy was burned, how did you escape?"  
  
Briseis put down her water, looked her brother in the eye, and began. She told him everything, beginning to end, reveling in her brother's presence.  
  
As Paris drifted back to consciousness he felt himself resting on a warm, inviting body, smooth to perfection. He looked up to see the beautiful sleeping face of Achilles, whose arm still clung to Paris' shoulder.  
  
Paris frowned. He knew now, that none of what had happened the previous evening had been right, but he treasured it all the same. Thinking about the wrongs of his love for Achilles, lead to think about Hector.  
  
He sighed and arose; leaving the warrior to his dreams and ventured forth into the world. As he made his way outside he saw Andromache, playing with Paris' nephew in the grass nearby. Again he felt the lack of Hector very much present.  
  
He strayed a little further into the field by the inn where the sheep were grazing. He watched two lambs leaping through the grass playfully. Eventually they came to a stop at the feet of a man Paris had, previously, not been aware of. The lambs bleated in fear and ran back to where their mothers had grazed.  
  
"Paris." The man smiled, a cold smile. He stood easily a head above the tallest man Paris had ever seen, an imposing figure with a harsh, dark look about him. The mans stepped towards him, and Paris felt the cold even though the sun shone down upon his back.  
  
"I am," Paris responded, feeling need for something to be said. "And you are?"  
  
"Come, we shall walk and you will know everything." The man attempted to lure the Prince away.  
  
"I'd rather remain here." Paris said, he was weary of this man and felt safer if he was closer to the town, closer to Achilles. Andromache still sat with her baby about twenty meters away, though she hadn't yet noticed what was happening.  
  
"Very well Paris." The man again used his name without introducing himself.  
  
"By what name do you go?" Paris asked, glancing quickly at Andromache. He sensed danger.  
  
"There are some that call me... Tim." The man laughed to himself understanding a joke that only those... "No," then he chuckled, calming himself, "no one will get that one for three and a half thousand years yet. No," he looked back at Paris, holding his gaze, "my name is Hades." With that Hades bowed.  
  
"Lord of the Underworld." Paris understood the cold he felt, now.  
  
"So, you've heard of me, I see." Hades smiled, "Good to know. So you probably have some minor concept as to the purpose of my presence."  
  
"No, none." Paris said narrowing his eyes, in an attempt to discern the 'purpose of the God's presence'.  
  
"Well actually, I have proposition to make. Nay, a question to ask." Hades quickly rephrased.  
  
"A question?" Paris repeated.  
  
"A question." Hades mocked, rolling his eyes impatiently. He hated humans and their pathetically incompetent minds, 'and this bloody sun!' he thought to himself.  
  
"If that is all, then ask." Paris, also, was none too eager to remain in this conversation.  
  
"Very well." Hades smiled. This was far to simple he laughed inwardly. "But I would first ask you to consider that woman there, and her child." He indicated to Andromache.  
  
Paris looked, and then returned his gaze to Hades. "What has this to do with them?" He asked still cautious.  
  
"Nothing much. Just keep them in mind." Hades smiled maliciously.  
  
"Ask." Paris instructed him.  
  
"Oh all right, all right." Hades raised his hands defensively. "Impatient twit." He muttered. "Your question," he spoke up, "is this." He paused more for dramatic effect than anything, he believed strongly in showmanship. "What would you give to have your brother, Hector, back in this earthly plane?"  
  
Paris took no time to think. He didn't even glance back at Andromache, and if he had he would have seen Achilles walking out the door to find him. If he had, he might have reconsidered, before he said what he did.  
  
"I would give my life to have him back." Paris said, forgetting for a moment to whom he was speaking. Achilles had spotted him now, and had begun walking towards him.  
  
"Oh, how convenient." Hades smiled, spreading his arms in an evil motion. "One switch, coming up." He raised his palms to the sky, before pulling a dagger from his robes and slicing Paris' hand.  
  
The sky turned dark, thunder roared and lightning flashed, but no rain came. As the first drop of blood from Paris' trembling had fell to the ground, a body began to appear, materializing on the ground next to him. Hades chanted, encouraging the flow of blood, he did enjoy this type of ritual, rare as it was.  
  
Achilles had stopped walking, desperately attempting to comprehend the situation. When he saw the blood fall from Paris' hand, he ran to save his love. Hades spotted Achilles and stepped back, finishing the incantation and disappearing in the same fashion as he had arrived.  
  
Achilles reached Paris just in time to catch the prince in his arms as he fell. "Paris!" Achilles spoke quietly, fear seizing his body. "Paris, can you hear me?" He did not see the body on the ground behind him stir, and sit up. "Paris, oh please, Paris." He said, cradling Paris in his arms, black curls falling about. "Come, now. This is silly, wake up!" His voice raised.  
  
The body behind Achilles stared in amazement at the warrior, cradling the prince, and felt sympathy for him, for them both.  
  
"Paris. Paris, I never got to tell you..." Achilles whispered, tears in his eyes. "I love you." No one heard it but him, and the words fell on deaf ears.  
  
"He cannot hear you." The body, a man, said, now completely alive.  
  
"Silence!" Achilles roared, not recognizing the man, through his tears. "How, in the gods' name, would you know that?" He gripped Paris' limp form tightly.  
  
"Because it was Hades who did this." The man said.  
  
"Did what?" Achilles spat, wiping away some of his tears.  
  
"The trade." The man replied.  
  
"A trade, for Paris' life?" Achilles still faced his back to the man. "What did he trade?"  
  
"Paris life... for mine." The man spoke quietly.  
  
Achilles turned away from Paris' body, to see who the speaker was. At this point Andromache had approached him and spoke before Achilles had a chance.  
  
"Hector?"  
  
AN: Does anyone agree with me that what Achilles said when Paris was dying is probably what he was screaming the previous night? Eh, if you get my drift... Oh, and to those history buffs out there, get away from Alec, it was appropriate, even if she didn't have a brother... mutters bastardly history buffs! end muttering Hi Jamy!!! How's life in Germany? Still raining? You'll have to satisfy yourself without the daily chapter, I can't write that much, I'm not talented enough!!! Yana5, thanks dude, and Hector's back!!! Lady Lenna, good to hear you aren't going to change your name. And I do apologise for Hades' evil behaviour. But he was doing it for Apollo, blame Apollo! But at least we have Hector back! purplemoofu, my cousin thought your expensive coffee was fantastic! Thank you, and I raise my jem- studded, golden goblet of 64 year-old wine in your general direction. (I fart in your general direction – Monty Python!) I look forward to your fic! I really do! Kage Miko, there is no denying it, you are crazy! Gilrean, I can't write decent lemon, it's all terrible! Have fun on AFF.net! And imagine what happened with Achilles and Paris, just keep on imagining... you "dirty, dirty girl." (I don't know what that quote is from, but it was funny at the time!) bradleigh, thank you for appreciating my A/N's, my cousin is attacking me for them! Evil, evil cousin! Hi Lucy! And, bradleigh, I'm glad to hear it's not too much for you! And Goldensong, I presume you meant next task, and indeed, it is! But Paris-less! Alright, toodles kids! By the way, this A/N was 284 words long. In case you were wondering. cw 


	14. Hector's Return

After Troy Chapter 14 – Hector's Return  
  
Hector sat up, ignoring his wife's disbelieving calls. He stared at Achilles, wariness all through him, Hector knew what Achilles had become, he had heard it all.  
  
Before carrying out the bargain, Hades had decided to gain a little perspective on Paris, and Hector had provided the perfect opportunity for that. Hector had spent what had seemed like days under the careful scrutiny of Hades, within the Lord of the Underworld's cavernous throne room.  
  
This, however, had worked to Hector's advantage, as Hades had neglected to return Hector to the underworld, when in audience with other gods, namely Apollo.  
  
Hector had learnt everything. He had learnt of Achilles' trials, of the love he was to find in Paris, and indeed of the plans of Apollo himself. Apollo's hatred of Achilles had not diminished where, in other gods it would have. He was bitter and spiteful.  
  
Each time Apollo had come to seek audience with Hades over the past day or two (and there were many times, Apollo being pedantic as he was) Hades had merely ignored Hector's presence and Hector had faded back from the gods, hoping to hide himself and hear as much as he could of the outside world. And, now, everything that had been planned had come to pass. He was returned, Paris was gone, and many futures were at stake, especially if Achilles was angered.  
  
"Hector." Achilles stood, facing the risen Prince. "Why..." he choked briefly. "Why are you here, while Paris is..." again he choked, grief and disbelief mingling within.  
  
"All that I will explain, but you must understand that this situation can be rectified."  
  
A small group of people, mostly the Trojan travelers, had gathered after noticing the strange weather and hearing the shouts outside. All stood in awe of Hector's return, admiring the mighty Prince as he stood, now, without fear. His spirit had changed somewhat, those who had been closest to him noted this. He accepted, to a degree, all that was happening and all that could happen. He was enlightened more than he had been. If he could be any more grand than he had been before, then it had happened.  
  
"No." Achilles said, desiring the answers now. "Who was that man? And what has he done with my lo..." he stopped himself, realising what he was about to divulge.  
  
"Achilles, I know. You and Paris." He was speaking quietly. "It is no secret to me," Hector god back on track, "and that was no man. That was Hades, Lord of the Underworld."  
  
"I'll kill him." Achilles stood up, muscles on his shoulders twitching with rage, yearning for a blade.  
  
"Unlikely." Hector said calmly, and with a seriousness that any man would stop to hear. "And he is not the one you want, anyway."  
  
"Then who is? Who stole Paris from this world?" Achilles growled.  
  
"That would be Apollo." Hector said, lowering his head and staring into Achilles' eyes, he waited for the connection to hit the warrior.  
  
"The god you Trojans worshipped?" Achilles asked, understanding at last. "The god who's statue I beheaded." Despite the graveness of the situation, he couldn't help but be amused at the memory. He had beheaded a solid gold statue, and that was no mean feat! But now another voice entered the conversation.  
  
"The god who guided Paris' arrow to your heel." Athena had come forward. "The only god who voiced his objection to your return to the world of the living. The only god, in all of mighty Olympus, who still wants you to fail."  
  
Athena turned to Hector, but he had already deducted who she was from all that he had heard.  
  
"Athena." He spoke in reverence, falling to his knee and bowing his head.  
  
If her godly beauty could allow it, Athena would have blushed. "My Lord." She said. "It is I who should be bowing to you. Arise, for you flatter me too greatly." She smiled as Hector stood back up to face her.  
  
"Fair goddess." Hector stepped closer to her, already knowing what must be done. "I will need an audience with the gods. Myself, Achilles, and Aeneas."  
  
"That I can do." She said. A moment later she was gone. Hector took this to be a good thing, and turned to Achilles.  
  
"Achilles, please. Overcome your fear and doubt. I must speak with my wife for a time, but return to the inn and I shall meet you there. We will see Zeus soon."  
  
"Not soon enough!" Achilles roared, still feeling the anger of his loss. He had no time for despair, it was not in his nature. "He should be here, not you!" He yelled, glaring at the greatest Prince Troy had ever seen.  
  
Hector's cool was broken, he realised anger was the only way to deal with this man, so he displayed it. "Do not dare!" Hector shouted, defining each word carefully. "Do not dare make the mistake of thinking that you are the only person who cares about my brother!" Fury boiled within him, releasing onto his old arch nemesis. "I would that he were still here, I would that I were to rot an eternity before he suffered a moment, least of all an early death. I know well enough that he should be here, not I, but it is not so! Therefore, if you please, I will go and have a word with my wife before the gods accept our audience and all our fates are decided." Hector finished breathing heavily. The care he felt for his brother had run over him. Hector felt he had failed to protect his young sibling, all that he had ever desired to do.  
  
Achilles, feeling very much put back in his place, though still bitter, stood down and turned to face the desert-like abyss that stood behind him. 'Perhaps,' he thought to himself, 'a walk before we are called.' And he began.  
  
A/N: tearing up Hector! Oh, Hector! It's not your fault! Hehehe... So, out of 10? Good, bad, alright I suppose? Anyhoo... Desperately sorry for the huuuuuuuuuuge delay! I am so lazy! Incidentally, at the start of my holidays, I said to myself, holidays = more time = more updates! How wrong could I have been. I think I god out of work mode, and got into the habit of doing very little. Then, yesterday, I did some work and I was able to write again, thanks, in no small way, to the help of our lovely Yana5!!! Thanks dude! Anyhoo... readers, and reviewers and answers, oh my! Alrighty, Yana! How's it been, dude! (hehehe, dude=whale's penis! Ewww, grosssss) Ok, Yana, Thanks, mate! Bonza to hear from you! (Touch of Aussie class!) Jamy, always a pleasure! I do hope you enjoyed! Toby7! Helloooooo, thank you indeed! bradleigh, indeed with the word counts, I think I'll keep that up! And I entirely agree with you about Achilles in bed! Lady Lenna! How do you do? Thanks Lady, and I promise, Paris will return!!! Ooooooo, predicting the future! (Though as the writer that's hardly surprising!) Gilrean, thank you, and apologise for the lateness. feckless that is a weird-ass name! But indeed, it was a holy grail quote!!! Brilliance of Monty Python. Speaking of which, should I involve a killer rabbit! Heheheh, (j/k) Lady Rineheart, there is a !!! (freaky, eh?) I entirely agree about the lazyness of review-logging-in-for etc. and indeed, Monty Python rocks my socks off! (I refuse to say 'whips my cream' as you did because giggles that sounds naughty! And gross! Ewww) Writing Muse, no idea any guy, with Paris' size that could get a little loose footed, are you kidding?! Orlando Bloom looks like a midget! Mini-man, but then... heheh, in PotC with Johnny, he looks like a bloody giant! I love Johnny! X!!! (and by that I mean x- shadowcat, and next time I won't explain! Mwahahahaha!) How's life. Sorry to hear that you missed out on reading, but it's probably a good thing, given how slack I am! Anyhoo, I'll ignore your 9-12 reviews, and sorry to hear about your virus!!! Don't cry too much, it'll all be ok! Goldensong, SORRY, PLEASE DON'T EAT ME! And lastly, Legoviel! (let me guess, you like lord of the rings?) Thank you, and welcome to the crew of After Troy readers who all seem very patient with my laziness! Thanks guys, and I'm off to watch a whole heap of Johnny Depp films with my cousin! Toodles! Now, word count (inclusive of words and counts!) words = 437! 


	15. Access Granted

After Troy Chapter 15 – Access Granted  
  
Hector sat quietly, embracing Andromache as she struggled to comprehend all that had happened.  
  
"So there remains a possibility that you will go back? Return to... to the underworld?" She asked timidly, not really wanting to hear the answer.  
  
"Yes. They may ask for my place and Paris' to, again, be switched. But, my love, you must understand; I would do that for Paris. It is not really my place here, it is his."  
  
"Why can you not both exist in this world?" Andromache felt a pain in her throat, an aching as the tears in her eyes welled.  
  
"I do not know anything at the moment. I am hoping that we can settle this soon." Hector sighed. "The gods will see us, they are reasonable. They will decide what to do."  
  
Andromache breathed in sharply and whispered; "But what if they make the wrong decision?"  
  
In another room Aeneas sat at a table, staring, aggrieved, at the maps spread out in front of him. The plans he and Paris had concocted. As he looked over Paris' unrefined yet beautiful handwriting, and glanced over at Paris' possessions strewn about in the corner, a tear slipped quickly from his eye and fell on the first map.  
  
As it fell Aeneas closed his eyes and he did not see it fall on Italy, the place that would be Rome, the future for the Trojan survivors.  
  
Achilles sat on a grassy knoll. As he looked up at the stars that, now, had risen, a sheep bleated in the distance. Achilles ignored it and continued to stare.  
  
'What is the use,' he thought to himself, 'of being immortal, when my one true love is not?' He closed his eyes and drew another deep breath, releasing what he could of the tension in his chest. Then he stared back at the stars. They shone brightly that night, a mockery of what had been done.  
  
"Very well." Zeus said. "I'll bring them here." He sat back in his chair, sighing under the immense workload this was going to mean for him, not to mention the floods in Achaea he now had to fix. With a flick of his wrist, four figures appeared in the hall which already housed himself, Athena and various other gods who chose to be present.  
  
Aeneas, who had arrived in the same position he had left in, fell backwards due to his lack of chair.  
  
Achilles and Hector, who had been sitting on flat surfaces merely stood up and glanced around, maintaining their dignity as best they could in the company of gods.  
  
The final figure who had appeared of his own doing, stood calmly as he had arrived, fingers entwined, shrouded in a mist of darkness. His pale face, magically visible, bore a serious, even grim expression. He stared at Zeus with a calm, ruling demeanor which no other god would have dared.  
  
"I didn't call you, brother." Zeus said, prepared to deal with Hades later. "Arise, all of you." He said, though only Aeneas remained seated.  
  
Each of the mortals stood tall, composing themselves in honour of their great god. Though Achilles mostly honoured him for the gift he had been granted.  
  
Hades smiled as he watched Hector bow gracefully, recalling all the time he had spent learning the mortal ways from this man. Suffice to say, Hectors ruling attitude had rather hit Hades' soft spot. Of course, in the mortal world they had only spent a day discussing the comings and goings of the world, the new trade system, recent deaths, comparing notes on dealing with incompetent brothers, though Hector still admired and adored his. However in the underworld, Hades controlled the passing of time to suit him.  
  
"My lord." Hector said, addressing Zeus. "Thank you for granting us this audience, it was very gracious of you."  
  
"Yes, I know." Zeus smiled briefly, he too was fond of Hector. "But time is ticking, well..." he paused putting his all-seeing mind back in the 'present', "not ticking for you I suppose..." he was muttering now, "in the future it will... Anyway" he started again, "Time is passing rapidly, we'll leave it at that. And time, my good Hector, is something I can not control."  
  
"Funny," Hades raised an eyebrow, and grinned, "I can."  
  
"I told you to be silent." Zeus snapped.  
  
"Inferiority complex." Hades muttered.  
  
"Moving along." Zeus glared at his brother. "Hector, you called for my audience. What is it that you want done?"  
  
"I wish to hear your advice concerning my brother's return to the land of the living."  
  
"Mmm..." Hades interjected. "I'd have to agree with that. He's a feisty little one." He glanced at Achilles. "Didn't seem to happy when I suggested he spend time with his old flame. What was her name?" he paused for effect. "Oh, Helen, that's it, am I right?" He laughed and smiled inwardly 'Of course' he thought. He actually had nothing against Achilles, but he always enjoyed winding up mortals, and Achilles was close enough. He hadn't even discovered his potential yet.  
  
Achilles fumed and seethed. "Hades..." he began, before he was interrupted.  
  
"Uh, uh, uh..." Hades smiled. "Wouldn't want to lose our privileges, would we?"  
  
"Privileges?" Aeneas questioned, feeling a tad out of the loop. He knew that Achilles and Paris had made up their differences, but he had no idea why Achilles was so distraught. 'Were they really that close?' He pondered.  
  
"That is a topic to be discussed at another time." Hector chose this moment to take charge. He faced Zeus again. "Zeus," he spoke up, "as you know, my brother has been taken by Hades to the Underworld. This, of course, inhibits Achilles' likelihood to succeed in his trials and, I believe, the Trojans' future."  
  
"Trials?" Aeneas asked. "Trojans' future? I thought that was my deal." Hector ignored him and spoke on, though.  
  
"Therefore it is in everybody's interest that Paris is returned to the world of the living. How do you propose we go about this?"  
  
"Hades." Zeus looked to his brother, only just having caught on. "This is your doing?" He shook his head. "I should have known."  
  
"But you didn't." Hades smiled. "If I might add, it was not really my concept to take the young man from the land of the living, kill the whelp, so to speak." He sniggered, yet another quote reaching him as his mind pierced the folds of the curtains of time. "The plans conception actually occurred in the mind of none other than your own son." He smiled.  
  
"Which one?" Zeus raised an eyebrow. He was, after all, father to most of the gods in Olympus.  
  
"Apollo, of course." Hades smiled.  
  
"Apollo?" Zeus growled.  
  
"You called?" Apollo appeared in the midst of the mortals currently taking the floor. After viewing the collection he suddenly regretted it. Zeus, however, used his will to stop Apollo from leaving.  
  
"You are responsible?" Zeus glared. "I ought to strip you of your immortality."  
  
"He doesn't deserve to be one of us!" Apollo burst, pointing an accusing finger at Achilles. "He does not honour us. Respect and obey, that's what mortals should do. He doesn't. He should not be a god, he hasn't even learnt about his powers yet!"  
  
"Powers?" Achilles asked.  
  
"Of course you have powers! As an immortal your will is amplified. You would will practically anything to happen. You could build an empire based on your will power." Apollo roared. "Yet you are not one of us." With that his will power triumphed over Zeus' and he left the hall in an instant.  
  
"So... there you have it." Hades shrugged, unmoved by the scene that had just played out before him. "I suppose I'll be off."  
  
"You'll be going nowhere." Achilles said, feeling ready for a few experiments of will power. "Not until you return Paris to this world."  
  
"I, uh." He laughed, humourlessly. "That can't be done."  
  
"Why not?" Achilles demanded.  
  
"Because to grant life you have to take life. Else the balance will be thrown. You understand... ying and yang? No, no you wouldn't. It's all about the balance." He nodded to reaffirm his statement and made to disappear.  
  
"Wait." Hector said. "You..." he paused, thinking of Andromache. But his brotherly love was too strong for such a bond. "You may return me to the Underworld, in Paris' place." He sighed.  
  
"Self-sacrifice? That is really getting old." He muttered, though it was tempting to have Hector back. He was bored and a normal sacrifice just didn't give him quite the same pleasure, energy even. 'If only I could sacrifice Zeus.' He mused. Then he was struck with an idea.  
  
"Zeus." Hades said, quickly approaching his brother's 'throne'. He spoke quietly so that no other heard. "If I might suggest an idea." He then whispered his plan in Zeus' ear so quietly that even the ever-interfering Hera couldn't hear it.  
  
"Very good." Zeus nodded when Hades had finished. "Very good." He looked up at the mortals. "Aeneas, come forth." He put the plan straight into action. "Aeneas, you must begin your journey. You have the maps, you must find a ship and a crew. Do not fear for your friend, Aeneas, all will be well. Think of the future of Troy." Then Zeus waved his hand and Aeneas disappeared, back to whence he came.  
  
"Hector." Zeus called next. "We will organize what to do about your brother. For the moment, get settled, you're going to be here for a lifetime." Before Hector had a chance to respond he was transported back to his wife and only Achilles remained in the chamber.  
  
"Achilles." Zeus banished all the other gods from their presence, bar Hades who managed to overrule his brothers command and remain in the hall.  
  
"Achilles, there is nothing that can be done at the moment for Paris." Zeus said.  
  
"I need Paris back." Achilles spoke, attempting to be reasonable. "The trials rely on that."  
  
"I realise this. Now be silent. We will sort that out at another point. For the moment you must focus on your trials."  
  
"You haven't given me all of them." Achilles said.  
  
"The final is yet to come. The first you have already completed. The next is the second task. You must assist in the building of the Trojan's future city. But you cannot accept the rulership of it. You must receive no gratitude, nor appreciation for your part in this task."  
  
"Why?" Achilles asked. "What is the purpose?"  
  
"To overcome your pride. Overcoming personal faults is what one must do in order to attain a godly state."  
  
"And Paris?" Achilles asked quietly, voice filled with desire and love.  
  
"We have a way." Hades told him.  
  
"Then I shall wait." Achilles said. His transition to god-like calm and composure was coming naturally to him, now.  
  
"In that case." Zeus raised his hand, wrist-flick at the ready.  
  
"Wait." Achilles demanded. "I'll give it a shot, if that is possible?"  
  
"In theory yes, but with no practice..." Zeus said, brow furrowed.  
  
Achilles laughed. "I need no practice." He told the gods in his usual cocky tone. He closed his eyes and concentrated on what Apollo had said. Achilles focused his will and as the gods watched, Zeus and Hades were both amazed to see Achilles disappear from their sight.  
  
"He is determined." Zeus said.  
  
"I do not think we have seen the half of it, yet." Hades smiled as he, too, disappeared.  
  
A/N: Cerasi had battled for days and nights until, at long last, she triumphed over the evil beast of Riterzblok and thrust her sword into its underbelly. Taking a spear she plunged it deep into the beast's brain thus destroying it forever, or until one of its progeny spring forth. Then, at last, she sat down, took pen to paper, and wrote... Haha! I am back! Oh, lord, I need to get back into the working mode. But anyhoo, another chapter down, we have Hector, but still no Paris! But hey, who's to say Achilles won't have an interesting dream to keep you slash-fiends happy. But anyhoo... Peanut Gallery – Alaska's Own, I've been meaning to ask, are you from Alaska or do you just enjoy claiming to be. Also, agreed, never, ever piss off your partner's older sibling, just doesn't work! Yana5, always a pleasure, thank you, and I really hope you survived the no computer for the holiday... I barely did. Jamy, love hearing from you. I am lazy otherwise I would probably email you... thank you, thank you, and thank you. I am so glad I can help you relax after work. Me, I just go to sleep after work. (generally do a big day and so much running about!) Hellodemonkitty, you soiler of cute merchandise! But anyhoo, thank you, and sorry so much for making you wait. I am just getting worse and worse... oh dear! Goldensong, sorry about the previous cliff-hanger, but I don't think I left one in this story. Bradleigh, you, too believe in the not insulting older brother things. I'm glad I pulled that scene off, I didn't much care for it at first. X-shadowcat, I can't be bothered with just 'x' anymore (I am a very mood-dependant person. Not moody, just mood-dependant) Welcome back! And I really think you should download VET or something, get rid of the damned virus! And, indeed, what IS happening to Paris in the Underworld? g. chicalette, are you new? I think so. Thank you for your most gracious compliments. And it is a master pairing! Colonel Ketchup, thank you for the constructive criticism, I'll try to take that on board. Also, to everyone else, our good Colonel is writing a fic that, if you are a fan of Monty Python, should be read! What was it? A 'Monty Python' does 'Troy' parody? Anyhoo, how is that going? And Gilrean, thank you for understanding the non- working-on-holidays-because-you're-less-productive issue. And I read your fic and I am severely enjoying it (that's a bit of an oxymoron)! But do try to update because I would very much enjoy hearing more. And a cheerio to Lucy, and all her crazy kids! Toodles kids! Word Count: 457 words cw 


	16. Action Stations

After Troy  
  
Chapter 16 – Action Stations  
  
Briseis was a little alarmed when she re-entered the inn to find it a hive of activity, with people running everywhere and everyone busy. Alec raised an inquisitive eyebrow when he entered behind his sister and stood quietly, with his arms lightly folded, as he waited for some sense to be made of the scene.  
  
"Briseis!" Hector smiled when he saw her. He walked toward he, tailed closely by Aeneas and Achilles.  
  
Briseis smiled, ever so briefly, before gasping and raising her hands to her mouth.  
  
"By the gods!" She cried. "Hector, how are you here?"  
  
"You've said it already. The gods made a... mistake, and I am here. Unfortunately Paris is dead."  
  
"But he'll be back." Achilles put in.  
  
"Before you know it." Aeneas added.  
  
"How?" Briseis asked, barely able to speak a word. She was still confused by the situation. Fortunately Alec, having spotted his various relatives, stepped forward to greet Hector and Aeneas.  
  
"Alec!" Hector grinned as he embraced his cousin, Alec had always been a particular favourite of his.  
  
"Hector, I feared you dead!" Alec held him at arm's length.  
  
"I was dead." Hector laughed at the oddity of this situation. "Moreover, I feared Lyrnessus taken and you dead!"  
  
"Lyrnessus was taken, but not destroyed like..." He trailed off, Troy had been a home to him for much of his life.   
  
He had studied there, learnt reading, writing, swordplay, and as much as he could of the wider world. Of course, most of these things he learnt because he never planned to put them into action. He was good at reading and writing, but he only did it when necessary, and rarely read for pleasure. He was also a master swordsman, but he hated fighting, and avoided it where he could. And though he learnt all that Troy could teach him of the world, he knew he would never leave, he loved his home too much.  
  
"My cousin, Troy is no longer ours. Dwell not on the past, it is the future we must concern ourselves with. One of us in particular." He indicated to Aeneas, who smiled and shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Aeneas?" Alec questioned with a smile. "You have something to do with our future? Please, tell me you are not planning an attack on those bastards, the Achaeans." He grinned, though Hector and Aeneas seemed awkward.  
  
"Don't worry about me." Achilles said, using his new found talents to perceive their thoughts. He had been experimenting a little. "I never really allied myself with them. I am ruled by no king. I fought for my homeland and my friends."  
  
"I should introduce you." Hector began.  
  
"No need." Alec was glaring at the warrior before him. "Achilles, is it not? My sister's captor and my cousin's murderer." He accused.  
  
"The same." Achilles said, tempted to smile. He saw no use in denying it and watched Alec with his head cocked observantly.  
  
"Alec." Hector intervened quickly. "It was a fair contest, and I had killed his cousin. It was... somewhat, necessary, I suppose." Hector himself still hadn't entirely made peace with Achilles, but wished no arguments to be had on his behalf.  
  
"And he was my captor, but only briefly. I told you this, he saved me from those other men." Briseis said, placing a hand on his arm.  
  
Alec was still not satisfied but, for his sister's sake, he stood down.  
  
"Hector." Briseis addressed him again, though she was still slightly nervous about talking to him. "What is it that is happening here?" The room still hummed with people's chatter and the scuffling of feet and the shuffling of maps.  
  
"Oh, yes. I have yet to explain. The gods have decreed that we are to make a journey with the remains of the Trojan population, and rebuild what we once had." Hector paused. His dear cousin had taken in a lot in the few minutes she had been present.  
  
"A journey?" Briseis asked. She, too, was none too fond of traveling abroad. "To where?"  
  
"To Italy. We will be building a new town there, starting a fresh, free of the threats we, here, face."  
  
Briseis smiled and held Alec's hand to reassure him. She would not make the journey to Italy, and they both knew it.  
  
"Hector, my dear cousin. Have you a ship?" Alec asked.  
  
"Not yet. Have you any ideas where to find one? We are a little pressed for resources."  
  
"Not find one, as such. I can, however, help to finance and construct one. I will begin immediately."  
  
"Good. And tell all that you see of our plans, bar, obviously, the Achaeans." Hector smiled.  
  
"I'll go right away." Alec left without another word to see what he could do.  
  
Aeneas returned to his maps to further plot the best route of travel. After one more embrace with his cousin, Hector, too, left to concentrate on preparations.  
  
Achilles watched Briseis carefully, gauging her reactions. He still cared for the girl, still loved her, in a way. It was just that the true essence of his heart lay with another, with Paris.  
  
Briseis noticed the distance between them, noticed the reserve that had not existed so greatly the previous evening. She moved closer, though only in a physical sense.  
  
"Achilles." She said softly, taking his hand and looking up into his eyes. "When they depart for Italy, know that I will not be going with them. Lyrnessus is my home and I plan to stay here."  
  
Achilles, deciding it was best not to tell her of his and Paris' new-found love, nodded and bowed his head. "I understand, but it is the gods' wish that I am to go with the travelers."  
  
"I see. Then, a few day's hence, we part forever." Briseis felt a growing sadness.  
  
Achilles nodded again and embraced Briseis. Very soon he felt a few soft tears seep through his clothing onto his chest. He pulled her back to wipe them from her face.  
  
"Might we spend one last night together?" Briseis asked, craving his closeness one last time.  
  
"No." Achilles told her, though it was a test of his self control, his body craved it so. "I think it is best that we do not." He would remain beholden to Paris.  
  
In the Underworld Paris' consciousness wandered alone. He felt as though he was sleeping, without being entirely at rest. At last he was summoned to Hades' chamber where he hoped to find some explanation. Paris stood, feeling more physically present now, and gazed around the mighty chamber of a dark polished stone.  
  
"Your brother looked less bewildered when he first viewed it." Hades spoke appearing from a thick dark mist.  
  
"You..." Paris glared. "You tricked me."  
  
"I did nothing of the sort. Besides, I was doing it as a favour for someone else." Hades sat in his high marble and silver throne.   
  
"I demand that you return me to Achi..." Paris cut himself short, not wishing to tell anyone of that just yet.  
  
"It's alright. I know. And you will be returned, all in good time." Hades sat back and conjured up a chair for the young man before him. Paris refused to sit. As he did, Hades contemplated the mortal's beauty. It had been true what Aphrodite had said about him. "While you are here, however, I wondered if you might," he mentally forced Paris onto the chair, "tell me a little of your world."  
  
A/N: Gilrean! How's the chapter going. Honestly, I really want to read it! I do, I do! Oh, I can't wait! And Peanut, I am so pleased to see you are true blue Alaskan. (P.S, are any other Aussies tempted to break into song when they see the phrase 'true blue'? No? Just me.... Fair enough) And the rest of what you said in your review was far above my intellect when I read it. I'll try to make sense of it between now and next time. bradleigh, the deal will all be made clear, though some of you might not respect it. But I swear, I have all your interests in mind! Yana! I'm currently talking to you on MSN. Oh the wonders of the internet. Also, thank you ever so much for that song, dude, you saved my behind! Also, my dear lord, I don't want to rant (because I'll scare you) but I have this deep-seeded obsession with Scotland. Only Lucy can understand. Where abouts are you from? Anyhoo, apologies, have fun in Scotland! And, of course, another country obsession, how is Germany, Jamy? Having fun? I hope this fic is seeing you through those workdays! Also, Lucy, I have this lord-of-the-rings-esque-head-dress-circlet-arwen-galadriel-style thing that I whipped up tonight, so I'll bring it to yours. Who else is coming? And to all others, Toodles and good night!  
  
Story word count: 1237 words.  
  
AN word count: 284 words.  
  
(And Yana, that means roughly 3711 words next time!) 


	17. Setting Sail

After Troy

Chapter 17 – Setting Sail

A/N: The following three chapters are dedicated to our resident Scot, Yana. Thanks, dude!

Within three days of Paris' disappearance all of the Trojans in Lyrnessus had managed to build a ship with enough space on board to carry all those who wished to leave the failing civilization. It was there, on board this mighty ship, that Hector stood gazing over the sea.

Andromache and Aeneas were checking off everyone who had put their name forth, and double checking all the supplies. Achilles, having noted all this, and his surroundings, took a place close to Hector's with the intention of peaking, though no idea what he planned to say.

"We sail today." Achilles stated stupidly.

Hector looked at the man strangely. 'Odd thing to say.' He thought. However, as if it was expected of him, he responded. "Yes."

Achilles was, again, silent. He had once respected this Trojan prince. Then he had killed him in a blood feud. Then he had managed to fall in love with his brother. And, finally, by default, he had brought this man back to life and killed his brother, whom both loved dearly. After all this, what could one say?

"So. What you share with Paris, my brother, is it recent?" Hector had taken up the responsibility speaking, as he could see that the windswept warrior had no inclination to do so himself.

"Recent, yes." Achilles pondered a moment. "But eternal."

To his surprise Hector laughed. A smile broke forth on his face as the wind brushed back his hair. Hector looked down into the ocean's liquid, blue-green crystal as he chuckled to himself.

"What is it?" Achilles demanded, not one to be mocked.

"In truth, I never expected to hear something as deep and thoughtful as what you just said from someone such as yourself." He smiled before looking pensively to the horizon. "That day, on the Trojan shores, I did not know it was your friend Patroclus." He told Achilles. "I wish, now, and every day, that I had not killed the boy."

Achilles felt awkward, shifting from one foot to the other and becoming very focused on the ship's wood, and the grains therein. Nevertheless, Hector continued.

"I met him, in the Underworld. I spoke to him and he taught me a great many things, about the grand Achilles." Hector laughed as he raised his chin, as though heralding a great lord. "I suppose you no longer need the shield of Hephaestus?"

"No." Achilles furrowed his brow. "What did you learn." His handsome face seemed somewhat concerned.

Hector looked Achilles in the eye. "Of your other side." He smiled slightly. "When I learnt of you and Paris, I was not so wary as I might have been, had I not met Patroclus. He told me of you, your willingness to fight for those you love until the very end. And I stand tribute to your fiery passion, or rather I fell it." He bowed his head and gripped the beam that ran around the edge of the ship. "Now I have returned, and I wish you to know that I am happy for you to have my brother as your... for you to be with Paris." He looked at Achilles, now, with the utmost seriousness. "But you must sear to me that you will let no harm befall him, least of all by your own hand. For I swear to you that if you do in anyway hurt him, then I will overcome the gods' wishes and you will be the next man to face the Underworld. Immortality, or no."

Achilles, understanding and respecting the sincerity and severity of the situation, nodded. "I swear it. All the powers that I have I will use to protect Paris. And..." he paused, "while I can not apologise for taking your life, I hope that we may be allies, in our newly gained lives."

"Of course." Hector smiled, and gripped the man's shoulder. "Now however, let us get this ship sailing. We have not time to waste."

Andromache smiled as she felt her husbands hand on her lower back, reassuring her again that it had not been some blissful dream of his return.

"We are almost all accounted for. There are just a few to come." She told him.

Hector's eyes moved swiftly over the list, noting few people he recognized who weren't yet aboard. One name he focused on was that of the woman quickly approaching the boat, and her brother.

"Hector," she called, "Andromache." As she got closer, Briseis held out to them a bag, weighed down by its contents.

"Briseis?" Hector was confused. "Where are your belongings? And yours, Alec?" He asked.

Alec stopped just short of his most beloved cousin. "Hector, my friend." He bowed before him. "Today, and for the rest of your journey, we do not travel by your side." He stepped forward, grasping his cousin's shoulder. "I am so sorry to separate from you, but my place is here."

Hector nodded, feeling great sorrow at losing his once great companion. "Perhaps," he said, "we will meet again, one day."

Andromache had checked all off the list, and the runners she had sent out had all returned. She put down her list and turned to embrace Briseis, holding her for a moment. "I will miss you." She whispered.

"And I, you, Andromache. You held us together when it seemed there was no hope. Troy owes you a great dept of gratitude. We shall meet again, in this life or the next. I bid you farewell, until then." She smiled and bowed her head as they parted.

With that, the two who remained stepped back and began to untie the ship from the dock. Briseis looked up as she reached the last rope and her wyes met for the last time with those of Achilles. A tear left her eye and fell into the blue waters below. With all that remained for her courage she unwound the rope and tossed it onto the ships deck.

Achilles was sad as he watched the girl standing on the docks. He knew she was finding this harder than he and he swore that, in his godly existence, he would see her safely through life.

At the very same moment, as the ship began to move off, Briseis and Achilles whispered to the wind; "Goodbye."

A/N: Alright, this will have to be brief because I have to go to Tae kwon do. Peanut, good luck with the making people feel really stupid. And, no, Briseis will never know! Mwahahahahahaha! Uh, excuse me. Yana, hope you enjoyed the dedication, and have fun in rainy, cold, near-Edinburgh, and I'll just sit here in rainy ol' Melbourne! Jamy, I got you three chapters! Have fun in Germany. Greetings, Eloise. And, no, no plans of spinning any more myths. But I was interested to read about it. Hmm... thinking expression as plots form. And my insane cousin, yay for your party and your wacky friends! Oh the amusement. Give 'em all a yell from Tory Alexander! Hehehehe! Goldensong, as do I, my friend, as do I! And another review from you (crazy party animal!) bradliegh. So good to hear from you again. And I agree, it is sort of hard to feel too much sympathy for Briseis. I feel sort of responsible for that. If I had more sympathy for her then it would probably come across in the writing. But, shmeh, what can you do, eh? And I'll do a word count, just because you mentioned it! And finally, x-shadow (omitting the cat because I don't like them!) I actually didn't check a map, but hey, they'll do it! It's fiction, after all! And I don't know about this ulterior motive stuff. Possibility I suppose!

Story count: 1,062 words

A/N count: 245 words


	18. The Truth

After Troy

Chapter 18 – The Truth

Achilles stood at one end of a storage room in what he supposed was the bow of the ship. As he stood, he closed his eyes and focused.

"Too far!" He said and realised as he felt himself falling to the water outside the ship. He quickly teleported himself back towards the room in which he had been standing, and grabbed himself a drink as soon as he felt the comforting wood underneath his feet.

There was a knock at the door, and Aeneas quickly entered. After several weeks at sea, with a few stopovers to restock, he had discovered, or been told of, Achilles' and Paris' apparent love. It still unnerved him slightly to think that it had all been happening under his nose. He might, perhaps, have taken it better had it been Paris who had told him. In stead he was faced with Achilles each day. He now understood, however, those times when Paris had been about to say something and then he would spot something that needed 'fixing'. Aeneas felt guilty, as though he may have made Paris feel nervous in some way.

"Achilles." He said abruptly, shocked to have found him after so many empty rooms. "Hector told me to come and discuss, with you, your new 'situation'. Would that be in my interest, or shall I go?"

"It may be." Achilles paused, struck with another idea. "Stay where you are." He said.

This time, eyes closed, he concentrated on Aeneas and, with little effort, opened his eyes to find himself standing inches from the irked man.

"What was that?" Aeneas asked, stepping back. The creaked and outside they could hear the great sail flapping.

"Practice." Achilles smiled, closing his eyes and returning to the box on which sat his drink. "One day I shall be able to do it eyes open and in times of crisis." He sat down, picking up the leather flask and drinking the sweet alcoholic drink inside.

"I see." Aeneas stared at Achilles dubiously. "And what, exactly, are you practicing?"

"Ah." Achilles smiled, in a much brighter mood in light of his progress. "Please, take a seat."

"A seat?" Aeneas laughed. "On what?"

"A box, of course." Achilles spread his arms.

"Of course." Aeneas felt a little out of place in such close quarters with the man who, just a short time ago, had claimed Aeneas' closest friend in his bed. He took a seat on the box that was closest to the door, in order to give himself some little comfort.

To his dismay, however, Achilles came and sat down just beside him.

"What I tell you, for the time being, does not leave this room." Achilles said, quite seriously.

"Of course." Aeneas swore.

"Good." Achilles nodded, perceiving Aeneas' mind and knowing it to be true.

Achilles then went on to tell Aeneas all of what had passed in recent times. At first Aeneas listened with slight disbelief. As the conversation continued, however, he grew to see the truth in his words. At the end of it Aeneas was accepting and rather compassionate to Achilles' cause.

"I see, now, the full purpose of your quest." Aeneas told Achilles as the sky began to turn golden outside, only a few hours of daylight left. "I will help how I can. After all, the gods told me that you are the only man who could defeat me in battle, so I don't dare to put it to a test." He smiled and Achilles laughed. "But," Aeneas paused, "what of Paris? Is he to remain alone in the Underworld until such time as the gods see fit to release him?"

"I know not what to do with Pars." Achilles sighed. "I thought of visiting him."

"In the Underworld? No mortal can come and go in Hades' domain of their own volition."

"I am no mortal." Achilles cocked his head, with a cocky half smile.

"A valid point." Aeneas stood, it still felt a little odd for him to be chatting in such a friendly manner with this man.

At that moment a bell rang loud from above them.

"What is that?" Achilles asked.

"An alarm of some kind." Aeneas stood quickly and dashed out the door.

There was panic and mayhem about them as they surfaced on deck. The women and children were running below deck and the men were preparing for some form of conflict.

"What is going on?" Aeneas called to the skipper. For some reason he didn't respond, in stead staring with deep concentration ahead. Aeneas ran to the man and grabbed his shoulders. "What is happening?" He asked again.

The skipper pulled cloth from each ear and stared at Aeneas. "Sorry, sir?"

"What is happening?" Aeneas repeated for the final time.

"My apologies, sir. It's Sirens, and an Achaean ship." He pointed in the direction the ship and island could be seen. "There, sir."

"What?!" Aeneas whipped around and stared where the skipper had pointed. There was a small ship, a war ship by the look of it, ahead of them, between the Trojan ship and a small rocky Island, which he supposed was the home of the Sirens.

Aeneas grabbed Achilles arm, tugging him forth. "Do you know those sails?" he asked.

Achilles studied the insignia on the red sails ahead. "I do." He said, a smile on his face.

"Who's are they?" Aeneas begged, frustrated and rushed. "Are they a threat."

"The greatest threat that ever sailed the sea." Achilles smiled. "Though not while I'm on this ship. The man who sails under that symbol is the man who brought about the destruction of your city."

"Who is it? By the gods, who is it?" Aeneas spoke, impatiently loud.

"Odysseus." Achilles let the name roll off his tongue and with a passion that told of the years of close friendship they had shared.

"Then he will be killed by those Sirens, surely." Aeneas told Achilles, wondering at the way Odysseus' ship came so close to the island.

"No. He is by far too smart to be killed by such a trifle. He will live." Achilles smiled and disappeared.


	19. The Sirens' End

After Troy

Chapter 19 – The Sirens' End

Odysseus' men went about their duties, completely unaware of the Sirens' song. None noticed when Achilles arrived on deck. The cries of their captain did not reach their well-blocked ears

"Let me down!" Odysseus yelled with a blissful smile upon his face. "I wish to go to them!" He stared at the island dreamily. "Turn the ship to that island." He commanded. None heard, bar Achilles.

"What, might I ask," Achilles called, attracting at least part of Odysseus' attention by standing between him and the Sirens, "are you doing tied to the mast of your own ship?"

"Achilles," Odysseus was still entranced by the Sirens' song and Achilles suspected that he would be until they passed the island. "Achilles, my old friend, I tied myself up here to avoid getting all my men killed, but I have changed my mind. I wish to go to them, if I have to swim to those rocks myself. My friend, you must let me down from here."

Achilles laughed. It appeared, as he had hoped, that he was immune to the call of the Sirens, though he still heard their beautiful voices. What amused him was that his friend had not yet noticed his return from the Underworld.

"I shall not untie you." Achilles told Odysseus. "The Sirens are a hazard and they've taken the best of men from this world, I'll not let them have you. If your ship passes unharmed, all Sirens shall perish."

Odysseus screamed. "No, they can not perish!" He cried. "Their voices are so beautiful. They call to me, Achilles. 'Odysseus,' they say, 'ignore the plea of Circe. Come to us Odysseus.'"

"They call to me, too, my friend." Achilles said, with a smile. "But since I returned I can no longer fall victim to their song. They are beautiful, are they not?"

"More beautiful than anything in this world. Even Helen could not compare. If a thousand ships launched for her, then surely ten thousand would launch for these beauteous creatures!"

"You know that they have the top halves of beautiful women, with long, flowing hair."

"I know this. And such voices, are they not truly divine?"

"Divine, certainly. But, my friend, they have the bottom halves of birds."

"Oh, Achilles, it matters not. For the beauty of their songs, I would gladly..." he stopped.

The ship had passed the island and, in that single moment, all Sirens ceased to exist. Odysseus paused, realising all that he had said. At last he realised to whom he had been speaking and looked down in shock.

"Achilles! No," he shook his head, "it could not be." He closed his eyes and looked down. When, again, he opened his eyes there were tears of joy and sadness and all other emotions therein.

Achilles strode forth and untied the bonds that held his friend to the mast. The crew were cheering having survived the Sirens and ridded the world eternally of their evil. Still none noticed or recognized the man risen, conversing with their captain.

A young man of no more than seventeen ran forth and bowed to the Achaean captain. "My lord," he said, "we have passed safely, due to your genius. Thank you, lord."

"Stand up." Odysseus laughed. "As fellow royalty I ask that you do not bow to me, yet still you bow." He smiled and grasped the boy by the shoulders as he stood, turning him to face Achilles. "This is an old friend of mine." Odysseus told the young man, still with tears in his eyes. "If you truly desire to be the worlds greatest swordsman, as your father was, then one day I hope to send you to study under this man." He smiled as Achilles recognized the boy.

"You are Prince Neoptolemus, are you not?" Achilles asked, tears held back as he viewed his son. "You will always be welcome in Italy, in Rome with us."

"I have never heard of such a place." The boy said, and he was well learnt in geography, amongst many other things.

"That is because it does not yet exist." Achilles smiled with a certain degree of pride. "And what on earth are you doing on a ship with this old man?" He asked referring to Odysseus.

"He has taken charge of my training, since my fathers death." The boy said, still not recognizing his father. He had been young when last he saw him, and it was not surprising, as he would not likely assume that his father had returned from death.

"And how is your grandfather?" Achilles asked.

"He was very well when I left him, and I receive letters often."

"That is good to hear." Achilles said relieved that his father was well.

"Alright, Neoptolemus." Odysseus spoke of a mind to speak with his old friend. "Off you run, spend some time with the navigators."

"Of course, Odysseus." He turned to Achilles. "I hope to see this Rome of yours, one day."

"You will." Achilles swore as his son returned to the navigators table below deck.

"Come, my friend. And tell me of your travels." Odysseus said, taking Achilles by the shoulder. "For I do not doubt that they have been otherworldly."


	20. The Escort

After Troy

Chapter 20 – The Escort

The Trojans sat and stared silently at the Achaean boat they were tailing. A calm, hot day was upon them and while the sun bore down upon their backs, the water lapped eagerly, enticingly, at their boat.

Aeneas sighed, knowing the gods were ensuring their safety in this journey, but uneasy all the same. Hector, who stood by his side, was silent in contemplation.

"Odysseus." He said quietly, the breeze lifting the name from his mouth and carrying it across the water ahead.

"Gods or no," Aeneas stood and walked away from the boats edge, "He is taking far too long for my liking."

"It is an old friend of his." Hector told his young cousin. "I am certain they have much to discuss. He is supposed to be dead, after all."

"Yes, I'm certain you're correct." Aeneas balled his hands into fists bey his side, releasing a nervous tension. "But the sun sets soon, and the men are restless."

In truth it was Aeneas who was restless. He had never been one for travelling on water, and this journey was taking too long to reach its end. He shook his head and Hector, who had turned to observe the man, smiled and returned his gaze to the grand sails of the Achaean ship.

"The men will be glad for a rest." He assured Aeneas. "The seas are safer, now that the sirens are no more, and the weather looks fine. We can relax for a time." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, cringing at the salt-encrusted strands. "He will return as he left, quick and with no announcement."

Hector closed his eyes, thinking of his brother, again. 'Paris.' He sighed as he thought to himself. 'How I wish I could see you now.' A wave of sadness, loneliness, rushed over him. 'I miss you, Paris. I need you by my side.' Hector could almost feel his brother and he knew, had Paris been with him, how the younger man would have reached out his palm to grip Hector's jaw, a brotherly affection, he would have smiled, reassuring him that all was well in the world. "I promised I would protect you." He whispered, eyes closed. "I have failed you."

"You have never failed anyone." Hector felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice by his ear. "Least of all Paris. He would not have you think thus." Aeneas nudged Hector's shoulder with his own and smiled comfortingly and his most beloved cousin.

"I thank you, Aeneas." Hector attempted a smile. "And I was meaning to say..."

Hector was cut short, and turned abruptly on his heels to face the speaker who had spoken his name.

"Odysseus has offered us protection as far as Carthage, Africa." Achilles grinned, standing proud like a child who has mastered their first sword trick, or riding straight on a mighty steed.

"This is excellent." Hector smiled. "Many thanks, Achilles, and welcome back on board."

"Oh, I do not plan to stay long." Achilles smiled. "I only came to tell you that. I think I have a better understanding of my skills, now. I have another test which I have set myself. The Achaeans will guide you as far as Carthage, as I mentioned, and I shall return to you then." He smiled and bowed his head as he disappeared, again, from their sight.

"And he is gone again." Aeneas rolled his eyes incredulously. "Do we follow the Achaeans then?" He asked of Hector. "Do we trust that he has not mentioned your presence, or Andromache's, or mine, even?"

Hector shrugged. "This is your party to lead." He told Aeneas. "Troy is, after all, your protégé." He smiled and began to wander off. On seeing the utterly dismayed face of Aeneas, however, he paused. "If it were my choice," he paused, considering his words, "I would trust in the gods." He smiled and wandered off, below deck, to find his wife and child.

Aeneas, left to ponder Hector's meaning, let out an exasperated sound and rolled his eyes at his cousin as he descended the stairs. Aeneas turned quickly to glance at the ship ahead of them. "Trust in the gods." He repeated quietly. "I trust the gods are doing the correct thing, then." He turned to the skipper and raised his voice, pointing to the Achaean ship ahead.

"The Achaeans are providing an escort." He called, knowing how ludicrous it sounded to the men, all survivors of the 10 year war that had raged between the two nations. "We follow them to Carthage."

The skipper nodded curtly and wandered quickly amongst the men, distributing orders.

Aeneas looked back, again, at Odysseus' grand war ship. "I will trust the gods. May the do us no wrong, tonight."

A/N: Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!!!!! We are back on track (at least for this chapter.) Let's get straight into it, after this announcement: reply to your bloody emails! No idea what to write! mutters crazy pimping monkey butts! So, reviews (because I love 'em!) The. Interesting, eh? The. Well, The, I am pleased to respond to your most eloquently written review, thankyou x 4, and then I'm getting back to Achilles/Paris, all in good time! (or bad time, as is my wont! ï ) and Hades fancying Paris, eh? Well, it's possible (latest saying) and I shall, indeed ponder it. After all, the Greek gods were sleeping with everyone! Zeus himself was all for the occasional guy in his godly bed! Wacky children! But I shall ponder, ponder ponder ponder! Ehehehehehe. And I do profusely apologise for my slackness. I am just waiting for the real holidays (shite, I finish altogether in 8 weeks. 8 weeks!) because I'm studying for exams and stuff at the moment. I do apologise, but I need a pretty high score to get into my writing course. I will try, however. Now, bradleigh! Ah, it's always good hearing from my regulars! I love regulars! Um, we owe the pleasure to Yana because she sent me a song that I needed for a school production, I was managing the sound production so I needed that song and I could find no one that had it. Meanwhile, I almost cried that night because my guitar was out of tune when I played the main song. Oh, god. tears welling! But it was all good in the end. And the power thing is entirely plagiarised! I owe nearly all my inspiration, as far as the immortality goes, to the brilliant and beloved Traci Harding. Oh, Traci, inspiration is your forte. One day, you will make your movie! And what a film it will be! Odysseus'll hang around for a while, too. Oh, I love him! And someone who agrees with me, Jamy! How are ya, mate? And, again, I apologise for the lack of email, I'm just lazy and busy, not a good combo! But we'll keep in touch via my AN's, and I'll start emailing after my exams, again. Glad I could help you relax! Breath deep, my friend, breath deep! X-shadowcat! You have returned (not that you actually went anywhere) yeh, about Achilles son, I found that out and I've decided to take it and run with it. I reckon I'll get Achilles to train him, because (contrary to what everyone else says) I've decided Neoptolemus will be cool, nice, admirable. But moving right along because I write too much... Lady Lenna, lady-like as always, Odysseus and Achilles are, indeed, the coolest cats on the planet! (although I don't much care for cats! Cucumbers, maybe...) Compass.... Um... compass... as in the navigational tool. Hehehe, actually, nice! Alrighty then, thank you indeed, oh, I do love nice reviews! And yes, they will extend to the underworld. Can we all guess where Achilles disappeared to? (Kid up the back yells: 'he went to get a good root!') and I do agree, Hector never deserved to be there! But he ain't goin' back! Also, I am glad that Hades makes you laugh. It actually made me laugh when I read that, and I'm laughing now, too! Such a great random sentence! "Hades makes me laugh." Heheheheh, literally laughing (I didn't eat much today, light headed, you see). And last, shortest, simplest, but not least! Goldensong, that was the most concise review I have ever read! Ehehehehehe. Alrighty, a couple of last-minute notes. Firstly, as I would dearly love to be a writer in my future (poor) years, I should dearly love it if you were to all tell me what needs to be done in my writing style. General notes. Also, if anyone wants a really fantastic fic, especially those who know Final Fantasy 7, read 'Burn Like the Sun' by Talya Firedancer (it's not , so look it up on google.) Jesus, I cried at the end! It was so beautiful, and well written, and.... Ah, words escape me! Even if you just want a fic to read, I can answer all questions about the basis, but it's all well-explained, and the best fic I think I have ever read! So bloody brilliant! Oh dear lord, I must stop now! And finally, to those who are quickly reading this: See 'Brotherhood of the Wolf' (French film) for me. So damn good! And 'Dog Soldiers', if you're up for a scare, screws with your mind! Lucy should vouch for me on both accounts. So bloody good, mate! And that is about all (long AN, but it's been a while!)

Story Count: 795 words

AN Count: 795 words!!!!!!!


	21. Deepest, Darkest Desires

After Troy

Chapter 21 – Deepest, Darkest Desires.

The dead swarmed around him, but he wandered ahead unnoticed. A few faces he recognised, and they made a double take, but none were too surprised to see the lordly Achilles in the Underworld, except those who had believed the rumours of his immortality.

He felt disoriented. Even when he had been killed at Troy he had not visited the Underworld. Thinking back, he was not entirely sure where he had been during that time, however short it may have been.

Without warning his surroundings changed. Suddenly he was standing in a large gaping chamber. A smooth rock, polished and shined, made the walls and ceiling, as well as parts of the floor. It was black, with streaks of grey and white through it. As Achilles glanced quickly about he noticed detailing, symbols and runes of some sort, inscribed in silver across all the walls. He could read none of it.

"Welcome, my good Achilles." A voice spoke from behind him, familiar, dark, silkily smooth. Rolling his eyes at the drama of the situation, and the drawl of the voice, Achilles about-faced to see Hades sitting on his obsidian-black throne.

From the usual shroud of black mist that surrounded him, Hades had changed. He could now be seen in all his real and slightly evil beauty. He was, indeed, an attractive man, as all gods are. His black hair, still seemingly not entirely solid, was drawn back behind his head, to reveal his pointed, sharply-defined features. His eyes were as any humans, but the whites were especially milky, and the irises were as black as the pupils themselves, a shadow that contrasted the pale skin of his face.

His thin lips curved in a slight smile as he noted Achilles observing all this, and he beckoned him closer with one long, slender hand.

As Achilles moved closer he gave Hades a cool appraisal, still slightly unnerved by the sudden change of environment. He drew a slight breath when he watched Hades move to stand, the folds on his long gown flowing about his arms and slender body. If Achilles had not been so collected, he could have sworn the god before him wore a robe of liquid metal, and exceptionally fine mail of some description. But as Hades stood to descend the steps from his throne it whispered like silk, shimmering between black and silver. Achilles found himself entranced until such time as Hades spoke.

"I believed it only a matter of time before you discovered you could get down here. But I must ask, what did you focus on?" It was, of course, the first rule of teleportation, one had to know to what or whom one was teleporting.

"The dead. Some of my soldiers, I suppose, anyone I knew once who, now, is dead. They would all get me to the same place." Achilles stopped just short of Hades and gave him a slight bow of the head.

"Very good." Hades smiled. "Again I am not sure I have given you enough credit." He raised his hand to his chin, pensively. "But come, now. Could you now have simply focused on that which you desire, and gone straight to it?" Hades raised an eyebrow, knowing full well the answer that was coming.

"I did try that. To no avail, I am afraid." Achilles narrows his eyes, suspiciously. "You do not happen to know why that is, do you?"

Hades waved a hand flippantly, "Perhaps you are not yet skilled enough?" He suggested, a smile threatening to invade his lips.

"Pity." Achilles said. He would see this through, he thought, he had no doubt that Hades was manipulating time, allowing them to speak for however long it took. He could almost feel the slowness.

Hades gave Achilles an odd, quizzical look. He pondered just how long he could detain this warrior-come-god. He had much tired of his previous occupants. Six times today that damned nymph had tried to contact him, six! He was in no mood for a woman. And as for the Trojan prince

"Tell me, Achilles." He walked towards the warrior, touching the man's neck slightly as he circled him. "What did you really come into my realm for?" He finished his wander, standing barely eight inches from the exquisite male specimen.

"I came to find Paris." Achilles told the Lord of the Underworld, his head held high in a military-esque stance.

"But you are sure to have him returned soon enough. Why come so early and disturb his peace?" Hades reached forth and gripped Achilles' face with one strong hand. Achilles flinched faintly at the cold touch.

Hades closed his eyes and shadow covered him again, briefly, while he strove forth into Achilles' mind.

"You came for something else, Achilles, not the Trojan." Hades smiled as he changed form before Achilles' disbelieving eyes.

Achilles felt warmth suddenly course through the hand on his cheek, and felt the same warmth spread throughout his own body as he viewed he who now stood before him.

"Patroclus." Achilles whispered. A dull pain began in his throat. Hades, in his new guise, overran the mind of his intended lover for the eve as only a God could. Achilles stood no change against the deception Hades had concocted. Achilles forgot completely his undying love and devotion to Paris, and was flooded with memories of the years he had spent with his love, Patroclus.

"Patroclus," he began again, "I never thought I would" Hades placed a Patroclus finger over Achilles lips.

"Do not speak, my love." He said in Patroclus' voice. "Let us not dwell on the past." A mischievous grin crossed his face as their surroundings suddenly became those of a lavishly decorated bedchamber.

Hades moved his disguised hands down to work off Achilles' clothing as the warrior backed them both toward the bed. "Let us make up for lost time, shall we?" He whispered into Achilles ear, caressing the man's neck with his soft lips.

Achilles' eyes rolled, lost in the lust as he fell back onto the bed. His hands moved up the familiar body, remembering each subtle curve and muscle, as his mind disappeared into the hot passion rising within.

"Patroclus." He whispered once more as his head fell back on the pillows.

A/N: Well, well, well! Naughy, naughty Hades! Are we all exceptionally mad at him? Or are we disturbed at the concept of Hades/Patroclus invading Achilles' toight body! Heheheâ Righty-oo. bradleigh, thanks for the heads-up, mate! I fixed it asap, I had to make some other changes, so I just uploaded the chapter again. Seems to have worked out fine. I also put that location in. It's Carthage, Africa. Oh, Aeneas. He just won't be able to keep his trousers on! And on top of that, thanks for the kind review! Eloise, danke shoen. I apologise about the chapter, all fixed now, methinks. I hope you continue to enjoy. Toby7, again with the thanking. And I shall ponder these mistakes. (calls oh, lucy! Would you mind?) Goldensong, merci beaucoup! Or should I say, thinks! (Hehehehe, kiwi jokes! They make me laugh. But, really, I mean no offence. Feel free to give Australia a go!) and The. Welcome back. And the ideas were taken into account, and moulded! Hope you enjoyed! X, welcome again! I know, I was entirely freaked when I saw the word count! But thank you, I do hope the gods appreciate it! Else I be smite down with the wrath of a hundred fiery lightning bolts! (bloody Zeus!) And about old Neop, I am not sure what I should do to him. As I said, I don't much care for what he was recorded to have down, please give me suggestions. And sorry about the cliffie! Hehehehe, you can stop pressing the F5 button for at least a couple of days. I've been sick, that's why I've written so fast, and now it's back to school! Argh! I Am Fanfiction's Saviour. Uhâ. Heh. OK! That wasn't really a review, but sure! I'll go and have a looksee. (weirdo!) Yana, I was kinda hoping you would be online tonight, but, yaknow, what can you do. Next time you're on, come bearing ideas for what to do next! Oh the wacky incompetence that is me! Oh, and he'll visit Paris soon, he just has to have a panic attack first. Thanks kids, and so that you don't have nightmares, think Patroclus, or hot Hades. Don't think any wacky thoughts on me!

Story count: 1,045 words

A/N count: 379 words


	22. Farewell

After Troy

Chapter 22 – Farewell

Achilles sat up with a sense of immediacy. He shot a timid look around the room and, noting the lack of Patroclus of Hades, breathed a sigh of relief. Looking around once more he saw Paris and let out a small, frightened noise at the wise, mature gaze with which he was being fixed.

"Good morning." He said timidly, more out of habit than anything else. Paris just took a deep breath and closed his eyes, before raising them again, this time fuelled with a little more anger.

"It is never morning here." Paris spoke smoothly. "Nor would this be a 'good' one if it were."

Achilles brows closed in on each other as he stared at the once-boy before him. Something had changed in him. He seemed... grown.

"Paris..." He began, but silenced himself when he saw the frustrated look in the man's eyes.

"That god, if indeed he can call himself that, I know what he did to you." Paris said, now lowering his eyes to the ground. "He did it to me also." He spoke almost guiltily.

It was now that Achilles understood what really angered the boy.

"Paris," he paused, "you know I only love you."

Paris drew a short, shaky breath and looked up at his lover. "I know." He whispered, eyes brimming with tears.

Achilles leapt from where he sat, ignorant of his nakedness, and took the young man in his arms, holding him as close as he could, and as he had desired to for so long.

Slowly Paris' arms raised themselves to take Achilles' neck and he pulled back his flushed face from the other's shoulders. Achilles' heart broke when he saw the lonely, pleading look in his love's eyes, the small frown that plagued his lips, and the tears that profaned his beautiful face.

"In whose form did he appear?" Paris asked, his voice faltering, not wanting to know the answer.

Achilles frowned in apology. "He took the form of Patroclus." He said quietly, as though hoping the other man would not hear him.

"Then he took the form of lust?" Paris questioned.

It pained Achilles to admit. Barely a few years ago he would have stood outraged and killed the man who dared suggest there was nothing but lust between he and Patroclus. Now, though, he realised that their love had passed. It would never be forgotten, not in all the eternity that he lived, but it had had its time and now his heart belonged to the young brunette in his arms.

"Yes, he took lusts form." Achilles nodded to reaffirm his message.

"It was the same for me." Paris breathed quickly for a few moments, quelling the emotions within him. "He took on the appearance of Helen." Eyes downcast or staring over Achilles' shoulder, Paris explained. "It is said that he cannot take the form of the true love of a persons heart, because the heart will decipher the difference. With an image of lust, the mind and heart are ignored and the body dominates."

Achilles nodded. "I would believe that to be true." He pushed Paris' hair from his face and smiled down at him, taking him again in his arms. There they sat for some time, thinking very little but relishing in the feel of the other against their own form for a time.

Suddenly Achilles pulled back. "But Paris, tell me of this place. Is your existence acceptable for the time being? I am desperately trying to have you returned, the gods have made arrangements, though for the moment..."

Paris silenced him with a smile and a hand on his cheek. "It is passable, Achilles." He made a sad half-smile, staring at Achilles' chest and playing with the necklace that hung about it. "The only thing I lack is you." He whispered. Then, seeming to gain some further courage from somewhere, he looked up into the other man's eyes. "But you are needed in the land of the living." He said resolutely. "I should not even have delayed you this long."

Paris stood up and threw Achilles' clothes in his direction, watching with a smile as the warrior dressed his fine form. "I wish you to be kind to Hector and Aeneas." He instructed the older man. "And greet them both from me when you return. And help Aeneas with these tasks he has been assigned." He smiled and took Achilles' hand when he had finished clothing himself. "And return to me when time permits." He whispered.

"I will, my love." Achilles promised. "I will."

With equal desire each man suddenly wrapped his arms around the other and took him in a fiery, passionate kiss. Achilles grinned as he broke away.

"I have missed that." He said with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky expression. "And much more..."

"Soon enough." Paris promised, knowing Achilles would catch his meaning. "Go now, and return soon."

Achilles stepped away and drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and concentrating.

When he opened them again, there stood before him the one man he needed most to see. His renewed life was all that he desired, but he knew that he would have to tie up old ends before he could move on, and this was the most important of them.

"Achilles!" Patroclus called, running forth and planting kisses on every kissable part of the face of the immortal warrior. He withdrew and frowned as he noted the sad look on the other mans face. "What is it?" He begged softly. "Are you not here, are you not dead?" He gasped. "Are you dead?" Patroclus' hands shot to his mouth.

"No, Patroclus." Achilles said, barely able to stop the tears flowing from his eyes. "I..." he faltered and took a deep breath to steady himself. "The gods made me immortal." He said. "I can never die." He took the young man's hands and kissed the palm of each. Patroclus reclaimed his right hand and caressed Achilles' cheek with a tenderness he would sorely miss. He had loved this man dearly and for such a long time, this parting seemed the hardest he would have to make.

"Then you are here to say good bye?" Patroclus asked, always keen to Achilles' real purposes. He stepped back and bowed his head. When he again looked up, Achilles was shocked and confused to see both tears and a smile gracing his sweet face.

"Yes, I am here to say that." Achilles told him, still afraid to say the words. "Why do you smile?" He asked, perplexed as to what played in the man's head.

"When there is nothing binding a soul to this place," Patroclus explained, "it can move on."

Achilles smiled for his friend, knowing this would mean a great deal to the young man, as much as immortality meant to him. "I am all that binds you here?" He asked.

"Yes, I can feel it." Patroclus nodded. "You have but to say the words and my soul is free to continue its evolution."

"Very well, then." Achilles smiled sadly, tears falling once more. He leaned forward and gently placed one last chaste kiss on his old friends' lips, and once on his head, before standing back.

"Good bye." Patroclus said, a final sadness in his voice.

"Good bye." Achilles whispered and watched as Patroclus' form faded away as water might into sand.

Very soon the image was gone and Achilles stood alone some time before he, too, closed his eyes and disappeared.


	23. Land Ahoy

After Troy

Chapter 23 – Land Ahoy

"Captain Hector!" One of the men called from the bow of the boat. His arm stretched out, pointing ahead of the ship. "There is land ahead!"

Aeneas and Hector ran forth and peered out at the horizon. It was only early in the morning yet, but the sea had been calm and the sky clear. Sure enough, ahead of the boat, beach after beach was cropping up, separated by rocky outcrops and grassy plains could vaguely be made out beyond.

"What are the Achaeans doing?" Asked a woman who stood just nearby. Hector and Aeneas, followed by others shortly thereafter, quickly turned their heads to the starboard side. The Trojans were still wary of the Achaeans, whose ship had guided them safely here.

Odysseus' ship was sailing just ahead of the Trojans, and out to the starboard side, but it now turned its path to cross theirs, and was drawing back towards them. Every Trojan tensed their muscles as they watched this activity. Ten years was a lot to forget, after all.

As the great, ominous warship approached, their worry was slightly alleviated as they noted friendly smiles on the faces of Odysseus and Achilles as they conversed.

The Achaean ship, now on the port side of the Trojan boat, drew closer. Oarsmen on both ships attempted to slow the vessels and sails were dropped, as the Achaeans clearly meant no harm. The ships came in, side by side, and the slight swell allowed them to rock gently together for a short time.

Achilles turned to his friend, knowing the parting would be doubly hard for Odysseus, given what he had passed through.

"My old friend." Achilles smiled, embracing Odysseus. "You know we shall meet again, I would not allow this to be our final parting."

"And you think I would?" Odysseus asked, a smile playing on his lips. "I always get what I want, so if I wish to see you again, I shall."

"Odysseus, I know you always get what you want." Achilles grinned. "Even the gods couldn't stop you!"

"You are a god now, my friend." Odysseus offered.

"Ah, well, that changes things, now, doesn't it! You could never get past me." Achilles teased.

"Do not make your head any larger than it already is, Achilles." Odysseus laughed. "Besides, only in strength could you beat me. If it were a matter of wits, you should fail miserably!"

Achilles laughed and turned to leave. As he did, though, he saw Neoptolemus standing just behind Odysseus. After returning from the Underworld Achilles had spent the remainder of the journey on Odysseus' ship. Much of his time he had spent admiring the young man his son had become, fatherly pride washing over him that he had not ever known existed.

"Neoptolemus." He smiled and embraced his son who, as yet, remained oblivious to the placement of this man in his heritage. "I shall see you soon, I hope, to begin your training."

"It would be my honour, sir." Neoptolemus bowed, a smile gracing his face.

"Trained by a god, an honour indeed." Odysseus grinned at his old friend, and placed a hand on the shoulder of the young man. "And one could ask for no greater trainer."

Achilles bowed with a cheeky grin and leapt over to the Trojan ship. The boats pushed away from each other and the Trojans drew their sails to take them into land.

"Odysseus." Neoptolemus drew his attention as they both stood staring at the Trojan ship sail away, eyes fixed on the blond warrior.

"Yes." Odysseus encouraged.

"What is his name, that warrior-god?" He asked.

Odysseus looked down at the young man and smiled, wrapping an arm about his shoulders in a fatherly fashion, as he had come to do.

"Neoptolemus," he began, "what do you remember of your father?"

A/N: I know, it is a rather short chapter. As was the last. But I am still getting back into it, and there's not much happening at this point in time. Just sailing, which they're about to finish. Then onto Carthage!!

Meanwhile: Chapter 21 reviews, and my responses. I daresay you all noted my laziness as far as chapter 22 went. Ah, well, I just wanted to update because I finished exams!!! Woohoo!! I'll make the 21's short. So, Yana! Here's a big hello and you, yet again, managed to be on-the-ball in reviewing almost immediately! I am ever so proud! And he does love Paris! I promise! Just the evil gods, as was explained. bradleigh, lol, you crack me up! Try not to faint! All will be well. Shivagoddess. I like the name, where did you pull that from? And I realise I'm crazy, but you must be nice! I updated, but I do apologise that Paris didn't walk in on them. I'll have some walk-ins at some point, they can be funny! But no mpreg, I don't do that shite, sorry. Again with the amusing names, The! Not one of the trials, though it will come up soon. Writing Muse, Danke. Will do! Goldensong, my friend! And you do, indeed, have a sick mind. But then, don't all fanfictionites have sick minds? I know I do! :) !!! And I hope it was interesting for you. X-shadowcat, you make me laugh!! Keep some rubbish, I'm sure you'll need more later, though perhaps not for Hades... Lol, I've been dubbed, I've been dubbed! Yay for the dubbing!!! Yaoicrazy-chic, you're a new one, aren't you! Woohoo! Sorry for the disappointment, but he's only human, and we're all flawed. Thank you for the review, however, and I promise, I love Achilles/Paris as much as the next person, though perhaps more!!! It will be them in the end! Winterlove4, that was a.... well, a very specific review! Lol, and I did! fERAL iMP, your 'sister' has been reading it, eh? Well, I hope she enjoyed the updates, though I'd rather not get sick just yet, because I'm going to the GoldCoast next week and that's going to be awesome. No sick. Mariella, thank you, I am honoured, that was really nice. And Precise. On Ice. Sorry about the last one, it just fitted.

So now, Chapter 22 reviews. Shite, this is long! But there are less chap 22's. So, Goldensong. Thank you very much. And I know what you mean! I didn't check for yonks, once. Nothing, not even my email. Oh, but the pleasant surprises when I did, though! Updates and reviews and emails from long-lost-friends. That was a good time! If only I had the self-restraint to do it again! bradleigh! I am actually thrilled that you thought it was sad, because I sort of wanted it to be. I mean, aside from being a bit of an annoying prat in the film, in the Iliad Patroclus was actually this good buddy of Achilles' and he was rather sweet. So it would have been sad for him, I'd imagine. Poor children! They'll all see each other again, I'm sure. And I hope the trustingness wasn't too cliché. I was worried about that... Yana5, it is a new chappy! Are you pleased? Because you just read another? Heheheh. Too many new chapters! I'm still working on the whole getting-them-back-together deal, but it will happen, I swear! X-shadowcat. You thought it was sad, too? I am ever so happy! And I shall have to check this surreal-wording. Because if I can pull of sad and surreal, that's two down on the list of emotions-and-attitudes-to-evoke-in-readers! I'm on my way, kids! And yeh, the schoolwork got me down. But it's all gone, now! All gone!!! YAY!!! I am glad you also enjoyed the chapter. Good stuff is still coming, I'm just working on it now. I'm about halfway through the next chapter. And, yes, there will be no more Patroclus to cause trouble and dispute. But he was so cute! So cute! But all gone... :(

Anyhoo, thanks kids, and I promise to update before I go away (which is only a week anyway!) Toodles, and happy reading! (P.S Can anyone recommend me a really good fic. Troy, Harry P, Pirates otC, Final Fantasy 7, LotR, King Arthur(only Tristan, though) or anything that is genuinely genius that you've read lately. I'm bloody bored!) Oh, and HELLO to Lucy and all her friends!


	24. Queens and Their Desires

After Troy

Chapter 24 – Queens and Their Desires

The Trojans cheered as they leapt of the ship, finally back on dry land and relishing in the sensation of sand between their toes, recently bared as they excitedly shed their shoes and some of the children jumped in the water to escape the heat.

Aeneas stretched his muscles and walked up on the sand. He peered out over the horizon and saw very little, only a couple of shepherds out with their flock.

"Only two shepherds." He said as Hector joined him.

Hector smiled. "Shepherds and sheep." He said, his mind making mental leaps that often surprised some people. "And it's a large flock, so there must be a town nearby. I shall enquire." He said, wandering over to where the sheep grazed.

Aeneas went back to the boat to supervise the unloading of the people and their belongings. So far every person on the ship had escaped. Be it into the shade of the vessel, or the shallows of the water, or sanding on the sand and admiring the open expanse of land about them.

"Should we get everything off the ship, sir?" A young man asked, approaching the now-acknowledged leader of the group.

Aeneas opened his mouth to reply, but paused. "Not just yet." He said. "If we have to move along the coast it will be easier by boat than on foot." He smiled and the young man returned to a pretty young girl, with whom he had been wading in the calm shallows.

Sure enough, Hector returned just a few minutes later with the news that they were closer to Carthage than originally believed, and if they were to take the ship a little further west they would find it easily before the sun hit midpoint in the sky.

With the promise of the city, fresh food and water, and a good bed in which to sleep, the Trojans boarded back on the ship and launched back out off the shore.

Sure enough, as the sun hit its height, the ship sailed smoothly in to rest at in the docks of the city, nestled between fishing ships and a strange kind of warship.

The Trojan survivors poured off the ship and began to unload their belongings. Andromache ordered her people, as only she could, into an organised group and sent a few people to find food. Hector and Aeneas wandered off through the streets to find where they could meet with the leaders of this city to seek aid.

After leaving the mocking voice of Achilles ('Off for a casual stroll in the city? Have a nice afternoon!') they had not wandered far before a young woman ran towards them. She appeared somewhat out of breath and held her orange dress about her knees so that she could run. Her sandals had long since been abandoned as she preferred to run bare foot, and she now carried them with her bundled up dress.

"Excuse me." She said, bowing her head so her dark, braided hair fell forward about her face. Her dark brown eyes looked back up at each of their faces. "Are you Hector and Aeneas, the ones of whose travels we have been hearing?" She asked, looking between them.

"We are." Hector replied.

"I was sent to look for you, and the man on the ship told me you had gone for a leisurely stroll in the city to relax."

"Achilles." Aeneas grumbled the name in contempt.

"And I assumed you were Aeneas and Hector because of your blue clothing." She continued unfazed by the angry interruption. She drew a deep breath and her voice became very formal, if it had not already been so. "Queen Dido requests and audience with you both, immediately." She added.

"Queen Dido?" Aeneas asked Hector as they followed the messenger girl through the streets.

"She is Queen of this young city." Hector told him. "She is a little like you, in her story. She escaped great troubles in her homeland, and came to a new place to establish a new life. She lead these people to a higher level of being than that in which they previously existed. She has treated them well, where other new leaders in this area have exploited the native people."

"Then her homeland is not here?" Aeneas asked.

"This is her homeland now, but not her place of birth." Hector looked around the well-established city, impressed by what had been accomplished therein.

"How do you know so much about this woman?" Aeneas asked, a devilish glint in his eye, and a smile on his lips. "Andromache would be jealous."

"If Andromache were capable of being jealous! She is far too good natured for that." Hector smiled. "I met Dido's mother in the Underworld, and some of her friends and enemies." He replied.

Aeneas opened his mouth to continue, but it hung open, speechless, in awe of the grand palace they now approached. The tall building had been erected from a strong stone, pale in colour to deter the heat. Tress and gardens surrounded the palace in which people were free to come and go. The building itself was easily as tall as the Trojan towers, and more ornate in its design. It seemed to radiate a calm atmosphere that affected all around it.

"It's beautiful." Aeneas commented.

"It rivals Troy's best." Hector agreed.

"In here." The messenger said, ushering them through the tall entrance. The doorway was covered in long, beaded strands that fell to make a curtain. The wooden beads snapped against each other as she released the curtain and the temperature dropped acutely when they entered.

The design inside was as everything else seemed, calm, simple and beautiful. The floors were bare, so as to deter heat, and thin cloths covered all the windows, lessening the sun's heat and allowing the breeze through. Huge statues could be found at every corner or meeting of the halls, depicting tall, gangly-looking people carved from dark wood or stone.

They followed the messenger through various halls, eyes wide with fascination as they took in all of this new culture, so unique, yet will small similarities to their own. Aeneas supposed it was a mixture of Dido's homeland and the new one, creating a stunning hybrid style.

The hallway ended abruptly with twin doors that stretched from floor to ceiling, the entire height of the tall hallway. Small carvings had been made on the doors, around the edges and a symbol of a lion in the centre of each, etched into the light wood with its rich, red tone.

The messenger signalled to two men wearing light brown robes. One man was of similar colouring to Aeneas and Hector, but the other was of the same deep, beautiful colouring of so many people they had seen in the city. The light brown robes set a contrast to his skin and his bald head bobbed quickly as both men opened the door to admit the trio.

The next sight that greeted their eyes was, if possible, even more beautiful than what they had already encountered today. The huge hall with its high ceiling was a pale, sandy, cream colour, the same as the stone outside, but refined with a pale wash of some kind. A single crimson strip of what appeared at first to be carpet ran from the throne at the end of the room to the doorway in which they currently stood.

Huge stone vases stood along the sides of the room, filled with exquisite flowers in colours which complemented the room excellently. Carefully crafted statues, the like of those they had seen outside, appeared here and there in the room, though these had more detail, as if of gods, instead of just men. The same curtains of beads and the thin cloth they had seen elsewhere hung over the long windows, and a huge sheet of it draped the open end of the chamber behind the throne so that one could see the gardens outside.

The messenger stepped forth and bowed, indicating that Hector and Aeneas should do the same. They did so and as Aeneas stepped onto the red mat, looking down, he realised it was in fact, finely woken grasses and thin reeds, dyed with some rich red powder-based substance, he supposed.

"Remove your sandals in this room." The messenger whispered as she slipped off her own shoes. Aeneas and Hector quickly obeyed and, stepping back onto the mat, both noted the cool, soft surface of the thatch and thanked whatever gods had invented it.

They followed the messenger quietly but swiftly up the long mat. The throne was shrouded in the same beads as the curtains bore. The beads hung down from the hight ceiling to form a circular veil around the queen. Aeneas noted two ornate hooks he supposed were used to draw the curtains back for certain meetings.

The men kept their heads low while attempting in vain to peer through the wooden screen. When they reached the slightly raised area on which the throne sat, the messenger indicated for them both to kneel on the ground, and they bowed their heads as they complied.

From behind the wooden hangings they heard a shifting of cloth and a shuffle of feet, but they kept their eyes on the ground, being all too familiar with royal proceedings and desiring no trouble from this new monarch.

"Arise." Said a controlled, commanding woman's voice from behind the veil. Aeneas glanced at Hector briefly, who nodded only slightly and both stood up slowly to face where they supposed the queen was. Again the voice spoke, though in a language neither men understood, and Hector only vaguely recognised it as an African tongue he had been taught of in his younger years. It occurred to them, now, that it had been strange that the messenger had spoken to them in their tongue, where most people in Carthage would not understand what language they spoke.

Upon receiving some command, all the guards around the room turned and swiftly departed. The messenger, however, looked angered and again speaking their own dialect attempted to reason or argue. The queen's voice remained calm, but anger was evident and she answered quickly. With one last look of horror mingled with annoyance and defiance, the messenger nodded her head and departed after the guards.

All this Aeneas noted without once moving his eyes from the wooden beads.

"Welcome." The voice said, returning to the tongue that all present understood. Both men bowed their heads in greeting and thanks. The queen continued. "You are Aeneas and Hector, of Troy. Are you not?" She asked.

"We are." Hector replied as he had earlier. "I am Hector, and this, my cousin Aeneas."

"Well met." Aeneas said quietly.

"Well met, indeed." Dido said, a smile in her voice. "I am Dido, Queen of Carthage." She spoke smoothly, and with a fluency that astounded both Trojans. "This is my palace, and my city. My home. And I offer this to you as your home as long as need be, for I have heard of your plight and I wish to aid you in your quest."

"We thank you, Queen." Aeneas said, but Hectors hair bristled on the back of his neck, fearing his cousin had interrupted the queen's speech, for Hector remained wary of this woman, and the power she wielded.

The queen, however, seemed not to notice, and almost silently she drew back the curtain that surrounded her throne and stepped out to look properly at the new arrivals.

Aeneas gasped slightly at the sight he beheld. The queen was tall, almost as tall as Aeneas himself. It seemed as though she was a mixture of blood from both this land and somewhere over the sea closer to their home, for her skin and features had adopted the more regal, beautiful features of each race.

Her skin was dark, though not quite so dark as those native to Carthage, but dark enough to contrast with the bright crimson dress she wore. The dress crossed over her upper chest and tied behind her neck, falling gracefully and leaving her back bare. Her hair, pitch black, was braided and pulled from her face with a thick band of the same cloth as dress, though interwoven with a golden thread.

Golden bands encircled each of her upper arms, emphasising the muscles that were there, a strange thing for royal women, Aeneas noted, to have such well defined muscles, but her arms remained slender as well. The same gold appeared with a wide, flat band on each thumb and several circular bracelets around each of her wrists, and a ring on each of her centre toes.

Around her neck hung a circlet of the same style, but this one clasped onto a disc that bore a symbol. Carved into the disc of polished wood, and embossed with gold, was a stylised lion's head, the symbol for Carthage, strength, and courage in the land. Upon seeing this around her neck, Aeneas realised it was also the symbol for this Queen, and he wondered how deeply her courage was vested in the people over whom she saw.

"Aeneas," she said suddenly. Her eyes were wide with a strange fire, a keen interest that suddenly flared. "The tales I have heard told of you, and the messengers that return with news of the world so often, tell me that you carry the weight of a people on your shoulders." She looked over to Hector. "A weight that used to be yours to bear."

The men nodded and Aeneas spoke quietly, though loud enough for her to hear. "We fled Troy in the hopes of starting a new life for our people." He told her. "There is but a ship load of us and the gods have given us a purpose and a destination."

"I wish to help you in any way I can, and I hope your people thrive as mine did. I was in a similar position as you, not so long ago, and I know the help I should have liked, so I shall offer it to you." She smiled slightly.

"We thank you, Queen Dido." Aeneas said, nodding his head.

"And your thanks are warmly received." The queen bowed her head to dismiss them. "Return to your ship and you shall find aid there. They shall direct you, and I desire for you both to return here at sunset. Bring your wife, Hector, and bring Achilles also, for I have heard he travels with you."

"As you wish, Queen." Aeneas said, smiling. "Many thanks." And with that, they returned to their ship.

A/N: Greetings children! Sorry for my laziness. This one actually sat for about a week on my desk half finished… but I finished it so it's all good! Before I respond to you lovely children who are still reviewing and whom I love and adore for that! I must question you all on something, and it is vital that you respond. I was attempting a slightly different style in this one, with more description. I do this because I need to try it out before I put my plan into action with my HP fic, which I shall be writing after this is done. And I need to ask, what did you ponder? Do you accept or refute the descriptive style. Was it good or did it bore the pants of you? Do tell. But, now, back to reviews. Yana, my dear, always good to hear from you. I am most pleased that you enjoyed the chapter, and I too have missed you on MSN! How is Scotland? Still raining? :) x-shadowcat! I'm glad you are pleased about the father-knowing thing. I was actually excited in writing it! Crazy me. And I read the first of the 'Secret' trilogy, by Thalisirwen. It was excellent! I'm reading the second right now, and loving it. Ooh, the sexual tension. And it's not even sexual, it's bloody love! I respect that so much! So beautiful. Oh, and I'm off to check out this other one, the D/H one. Aside from Cloud/Zack in FinalFantasy XII, and Sirius/Remus, Harry/Draco is the most excellent pairing! OK, put it this way, since that made no sense. My opinion is this; my favourite pairings are Cloud/Zack and Sirius/Remus, but the best pairing is Harry/Draco. There. Oh, excuse my thinking on page, I do that sometimes… and Spezlee, greetings and welcome to the world of Cerasi's fanfiction! I hope you enjoy the ride. So toodles, all, and please tell me what you think of the style. Good/Bad/Couldn't-give-a-flying-fuck!! Do tell, and I swear, it's just a style so I don't care if you hate it with a passion! Just tell me! :)

Story: 2,446

A/N: 352


	25. Forbidden Treasure

After Troy

Chapter 25 – Forbidden Treasure

The noise swarmed around them as the Trojans and Achilles sat along the Queen's table. Queen Dido sat at the middle, commanding at her will the attention of all her people. To her left sat all the officials of the city and her closest friends. To her right sat Aeneas, with his ailing father whom he had chosen to bring. Beyond him sat Hector, Andromache, and finally Achilles who sat entertaining a swarm of women with all manner of food-related tricks and somewhat exaggerated tales of heroics.

"And faced with the Achaeans' escort, what did you do?" The Queen asked Aeneas, still enthralled by his tales.

"We trusted in the gods." Aeneas said with a smile. "After all, they have not led us astray yet."

Dido smiled, chewing slowly on some food. Each time she moved Aeneas was mesmerised by the sounds she carried with her. Beads in her hair and on her dress clacked, and the jewellery that bound her neck and arms clicked lightly, and the fabric that comprised her clothes rushed beautifully. And she smelled lovely, Aeneas reflected.

The conversations had carried on for most of the night, each person telling their respective tales, but it was Aeneas on whom Dido chose to focus nearly all her attention.

Andromache was laughing and smiling, utterly at ease with her people taken care of. Nothing could have made her happier at that moment, with the obvious exception of having Hector by her side, which she did.

As the evening wound down, guests began to leave. Achilles went first, shaking off his group of young women to stride out with a wink and a grin in their direction, inwardly wishing they were Paris. Naturally, they were still very attractive young women, but he missed what he shared with Paris, and somehow they didn't seem to make up for it.

Shortly thereafter Andromache and Hector departed, taking with them Aeneas' father, as he was clearly in want of rest. They left the table, Hector glancing back to see Aeneas and Dido still conversing animatedly.

"We may have an allegiance before we even have a city." Hector whispered, grinning for his cousin.

Dido and Aeneas sat and spoke about their respective travels and whatever else came until very late that evening, until all but the serving staff had disappeared. Dido interrupted the conversation only to invite Aeneas to her private rooms for a drink.

When they reached the Queen's chambers, Aeneas was a little taken aback at the simplicity of them. From their size he would not even assume she was queen of all this land, but perhaps a lady of sorts. She had clearly not given herself any further allowance than she would another, and for that Aeneas admired her.

They walked together out onto the balcony and stood quietly, looking out over the city.

"It's beautiful." Aeneas said.

"Indeed." Dido said quietly. Aeneas looked about, shocked at how close she was to him. Her eyes locked his and she smiled sensuously. Aeneas' breathing sped up slightly, and he felt frozen to the spot. As she moved forward he closed his eyes and prepared for the inevitable.

…Only to notice a significant change in the temperature. He opened his eyes and blinked them several times as he adjusted to the bright light everywhere.

"Aeneas." Said a low booming voice. "Lovely to see you again."

Aeneas tried desperately to see the wielder of the voice, but he already knew who it was before his eyes adjusted and focused. "Zeus." He said, bowing low. He looked up again and waited for a response, but the gods were silently watching him.

"Why…" He trailed off.

"Because you are not following your instructions." Zeus informed him.

"And you seem to be developing an attraction to the wrong woman." Aphrodite said.

"I- what?" Aeneas spluttered.

"The wrong woman: Queen Dido, you're not to stay there." Zeus told him, rather succinctly.

"But, I--" This time he was interrupted.

"You will not stay there!" Zeus said. "You set sail in the morning, and you continue your journey." And with that they banished him back to the where his people, and not Dido, were waiting for him.

"You don't think we were a little harsh on him?" Zeus said.

"You wouldn't know harsh if it took the form of a Minotaur and rammed you up the--" Hera began, but Aphrodite kindly silenced her with a hand over the mouth.

"He must understand." Aphrodite assured her father. "And besides, he will soon meet somebody much more… appropriate." She smiled. Zeus nodded and relaxed back in his godly throne, a rather self-satisfied smile on his face, ignoring the mutterings of his wife as she stormed away.

Tbc

Firstly: an apology. I am ever so bloody sorry that this took so long, and also sorry that it's a piece of shit. I, unfortunately, planned the story. And, whenever I plan anything, I don't end up writing it. My cousin thinks that some part of my brain says "ah, so that's what happens!" and doesn't feel the need to tell anybody else. Anyhoo, it might take a while, but I plan to keep going, and there are further twists and turns yet to come :)

Reviews (upholding a time-honoured tradition!): I'm starting from x-shadowcat's review for chapter 24, I think that makes sense. I'm picking out the important part (Harry/Draco) and I'll be writing it after the seventh book is out. At the moment, I am boycotting because of what she did to my beloved! (waves a Sirius/Remus flag, while crying distraughtly!) bradleigh, danke. I'm glad you liked the visuals, though I'm trying to phase them out a bit. It's bloody difficult! And I assure you, the queen's not evil, she's just… strong-willed. :) Will's Girl, thank you. Rapunzelstiltskin, agreed on the Achillesbi front, but they all were back then, it was not even blinked at. http/myweb. also, I don't even remember the first task, and yes, they will be a tad more challenging, at least on some level. Morningstar, thank you, and I have. :) Now, Elenor Edhelen, where to begin! I'll leave most of it, just to say I hope you enjoyed the update. And thank you for all the reviews! Then we have Andrea. I don't suppose I need to respond to it, since I don't think she'll be coming back, but you should all have a read of her review, and note how she seems to portray 'gay' people in her coughnarrowcough mind. I can appreciate that you don't want to read something about Achilles being gay, but you clearly have never heard of Patroclus, my dear, or read the Iliad. It's all there, you just have to open your eyes and see that real-life slashiness in all it's glory. ;)

Anyhoo, off I toddle.

I'll try again with the updating, but don't hold your breath, you may well find yourself unconscious or dead, and I don't want that, you're all too lovely to die on account of my fic!

Toodles.

cd


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